Garry L. Hagberg

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 26.1 (2002) iii-iv [Access article in PDF] Editorial War of the Worldviews With this issue, PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE enters its second quarter century. For many of the past twenty-five years it has enjoyed the sponsorship of Whitman College and the extraordinarily capable coeditorship of Patrick Henry. Bard College now assumes sponsorship, and the journal will be edited jointly by us, with Pat Henry ascending to the empyrean to look down upon us as Editor Emeritus.From its first issue (a mere 124-page wisp of a journal, but with robust essays by Hazel Barnes, Monroe Beardsley, and a smart young thinker named Martha Nussbaum), PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE has provided a home for anyone convinced by the initially counterintuitive notion that a close study of fiction can play an irreplaceable role in epistemology, ethics, philosophy of language, and even metaphysics. Philosophy is about life from the broadest possible human perspective, and so is literature. But how different the perspectives! Plato saw fiction, poetry, drama, and passion dug in on one side of the battle lines, with science, philosophy, and reason on the other. Not for the first time, nor the last, he was right. At this journal, we're on no peace mission, and we don't relish vapid compromises. Both sides in Plato's War of the Worldviews will be discomfited and annoyed to learn that they have features in common. Would-be peacemakers will be disappointed to see fresh hostilities breaking out just when they thought differences were being at last reconciled. We're interested more in the facts, arguments, and the healthy entertainment of battle than we are in making anybody comfortable. And let's admit it: the kinds of scholarly disputes we encourage in this journal can be exciting and fun.Watch these pages, therefore, not only for fresh news of ancient disputes, but also for exciting studies that break old boundaries, exploring the myriad linkages between traditional aesthetics and such empirical disciplines as psychology, anthropology, and biology. The [End Page iii] symposium on jazz in this issue marks as well our intention to publish engaging work on the arts and culture in general, not limiting ourselves to the areas named in our title. All the articles in PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE are, as always, offered in the spirit of expanding the reach and depth of humanistic scholarship. But one thing will stay the same around here: our constant concern to offer prose that is characterized by exactitude, insight, refinement, rigor, and above all, clarity.Heartfelt thanks to the many individual readers and writers who have brought PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE to this stage of its evolution. We welcome your suggestions about future directions. And so we roll up our sleeves and plunge into the next twenty-five years. Denis Dutton University of Canterbury Garry Hagberg Bard College...

This chapter investigates the content of the concept of adaptation, as it is seen on analogy to linguistic translation and as it is seen as itself a representation of the process of human self-definition and self-composition. Word-to-word translation is uncovered as a misleading analogy, but larger frames of translation are shown to be illuminating. Quine’s work on the indeterminacy of translation is intertwined with Charlie Kaufman’s script for his film Adaptation, and the simple notion of the matching of the adaptation to the original is called into question—as is the very idea of a static original against which the verisimilitude of an adaptation would be measured. The chapter concludes with an inventory of the elements that fill the creative space that is opened between an originating text and its adaptation.

Living in Words: Literature, Autobiographical Language, and the Composition of Selfhood pursues three main questions: What role does literature play in the constitution of a human being? What is the connection between the language we see at work in imaginative fiction and the language we develop to describe ourselves? And is something more powerful than just description at work -- that is, does self-descriptive or autobiographical language itself play an active role in shaping and solidifying our identities? This adventurous book suggests that interdisciplinary work interweaving philosophy and literature can answer these questions. Main sections investigate the relational model of the self derived from American pragmatism, the sense of rightness that can attach to descriptions of ourselves and our actions, the analogy between interpreting works of art and the interpretation of persons, the special power of literature as a self-compositional tool and the "architecture" of self-narratives and the corresponding growth of self-understanding, what we can learn from cautionary tales concerning the tragic lack of self-knowledge, the possibility of "rewriting" and "rereading" the self, and overall, the assembly of real-life structures of self-definition through our reflective engagement with literature. Throughout, the book develops a model of active, self-constitutive literary reading that provides language for, and sharpens, self-individuation and sensibility. Conjoining a relational conception of selfhood to a narrative conception of self-understanding, Living in Words makes a powerful claim that aesthetic experience and our engagement with the arts is a far more serious matter in human life and society than it in some quarters is taken to be.

Of the famous passage from Augustine’s Confessions1 that opens Philosophical Investigations, Wittgenstein writes, These words, it seems to me, give us a particular picture of the essence of human language. It is this: the words in language name objects — sentences are combinations of such names. — In this picture of language we find the roots of the following idea: Every word has a meaning. This meaning is correlated with the word. It is the object for which the word stands. (PI, 2009, §1) This remark has frequently been taken to simply identify as Wittgenstein’s point of departure the ‘naming theory’ of language. But as usual, closer attentiveness to Wittgenstein’s words extracts a good deal more content. Augustine’s words impart a picture not only of human language, but indeed a picture of the essence of language. So to begin, let us look briefly at the concepts of (1) picture and (2) essence as they are used here.

Multiple definitions of Modernism have been put forward, often focusing on the character or features of the works of art and literature produced within this cultural movement. Here I want to focus, instead, on the sensibility of Modernism as this has manifested itself to be especially concerned not with the content of representation, but with the materials out of which a representation is made. Through an analysis of eighteenth-century English portraiture, nineteenth-century French political painting, and up to twentieth-century Modernist painting, I will show how one ceases to see the representational content through the materials and technique, and how we begin to see it depicted in them. I will furthermore examine some cases showing the progression into Modernism in those arts, and then consider the parallel movement in philosophy. Each, as we will see, casts important light on the other, and in the end, something essential to the Modernist achievement will emerge in high relief: just as paint and visible, attention-capturing brushstroke is constitutive of the content of modernist painting, and just as steel and glass and the purity of visible, exposed design is constitutive of architecture, so language is constitutive of us and a distinctively modern form of self-understanding. In this context we will see more of the significance of Wittgenstein’s claim that language itself is the vehicle of thought.

This chapter explores the significance that Wittgenstein’s work in the philosophy of mind holds for self-understanding, looking into issues of the dualist-introspectionist model of the mind, its antithesis in behaviorism, and the role of language as what Wittgenstein called “the vehicle of thought”, where these considerations are all brought together as a way of investigating how we think of the contents of consciousness. It then takes these Wittgensteinian reflections into a discussion of the way in which Henry James illuminates both the contents and the nature of consciousness in The Golden Bowl. The self-understanding that Maggie Verver achieves is here seen not as a result of inner reflection on private pure or pre-linguistic thought within a metaphysically-sealed mental interior, but rather as the result of becoming ever more aware of the network of relations through which she moves and ever more aware of the power of the words and the subtly-developing narrative that gives shape to who she is and that determines what she will become.

The fact that Arthur Danto is so well known for his vibrant writing on the visual arts should not blind us to his deep interest in literature and writing, his vision of its role in the living of a human life, and the special way he interweaves his literary interests with his writing on the visual arts. In Danto's life and work, the writings of Henry James proved particularly powerful in this regard. Between life and literature, Danto found parallels that were metaphorical both in perspective and in structure. The appreciation of James's metaphorical style never left Danto; it remained alive and wove itself throughout his writing regardless of primary subject. Even when thinking about painting, Danto saw parallels to James's intricate and hyper‐alert mode of presentation. For Danto, art either was or strived to be what it can be at its most profound: a locus of human meaning.

Seeing Wittgenstein Anew is a collection which examines Ludwig Wittgenstein's remarks on the concept of aspect-seeing, showing that it was not simply one more topic of investigation in Wittgenstein's later writings but rather a pervasive and guiding concept in his efforts to turn philosophy's attention to the actual conditions of our common life in language. The essays in this 2010 volume open up novel paths across familiar fields of thought: the objectivity of interpretation, the fixity of the past, the acquisition of language, and the nature of human consciousness. Significantly, they exemplify how continuing consideration of the interrelated phenomena of aspect-seeing might produce a fruitful way of doing philosophy in a new century.

There has been a vast wave of work on narrative in the last decade: this work includes numerous volumes on the philosophy of narrative and its definition, on the place of narrative in literary analysis, on the sense-making power of narrative construction, on narrative in its evolutionary aspects, and on the relation between narrative and the constitution of personhood. However, one sees less work specifically on the relations between literary narrative and self-understanding. Self-knowledge and its philosophical questions have often remained within their domain, while discussions of literature and fictional narratives have with equal frequency remained within theirs. The time seems right to bring these topics together, a project that the present volume undertakes.