Marta Ferreira

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Natural History: Religion and "Explanation" M. JAMIE FERREIRA HUME'S BOLDLYSIMPLESTATEMENTof the genesis of religion--that "the anxious concern for happiness, the dread of future misery, the terror of death, the thirst for revenge, the appetite for food and other necessaries" led humankind to see "the first obscure traces of divinity"--is supported by appeals to what he considers plain common sense.' For example, given that at "the first origin of society" (e4) our ancestors were obviously "ignorant and barbarous" (23), anxiously helpless in the face of threatening natural events--hence, obviously with neither the leisure nor the impulse nor the aptitude for serious reflection--it was obviously passionate fears and hopes, not reason, which motivated their beliefs. Given that the mind obviously "rises from inferior to superior," and that humankind obviouslyhasn't "inhabited palaces before huts and cottages or studied geometry before agriculture" (~4), polytheism obviously antedated monotheism. In the course of detailing his commonsensical account of the origin and development of religion, Hume highlights a wide variety of natural tendencies, principles, and propensities which are operative. Keith Yandell offers a recent reading of one such propensity at work in the origin of religion--namely, what Hume calls the "propensity of human nature, which leads into a system, that gives them some satisfaction" (29)--and Yandell explicitly takes it to be a propensity to an "explanatory" system.2 I want to argue in what follows that any reading of Hume's account of religion which highlights an explanatory motivation can be significantly misleading insofar as it obscures the way in which Hume's account differs markedly from other classical genetic accounts which emphasize explanation. ' The Natural History ofReligion, ed. H. E. Root (Stanford, CA, 1956), 28. Further parenthetical page references in the text will be to this work. His later formulation--"The primary religion of mankind arises chiefly from an anxious fear of future events" (65)--recalls Philo's pithy version, namely, "terror is the primary principle of religion" (Dialoguesconcerning Natural Religion, XII). ~Hume's "Inexplicable Mystery": His Views on Religion (Philadelphia, 199o), 9. Hereafter HIM. [5931 594 JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 33:4 OCTOBER 1995 In his account of the "propensity of human nature, which leads into a system, that gives them some satisfaction," Yandell admits that "no explanation is given of exactly what sort of satisfaction is in question," yet he goes on without a pause to speak of how "people accept different and various explanatory systems"; referring to a natural "propensity to understand," he concludes that "for Hume, we need not accept a religious system of explanation, but most of us in fact do so."s I suggest that Yandell's shift from "system" to "explanatory system," which is unheralded, is of crucial significance because the emphasis on explanation tends to call to a reader's mind just the sort of appeal which Hume decisively rejects. I shall argue that Hume draws our attention to and decisively excludes from his account a concept of explanation which actually does play an important role in other parallel accounts--namely, a concept which focuses on the integrity of a broad picture and an ultimate accounting; Hume points to such a concept in his references to the "frame of the universe," "final causes," and the "first rise of the visible system." Such a role might seem to elaborate Hume's appeal to common sense--after all, isn't the natural response to "unknown causes" to try to understand them, and isn't the attempt to understand them the same as looking for an "ultimate" explanation, however crude it might be at the outset? Although this might seem commonsensical to others (as we shall see), I want to argue that what Hume sees at work in the origin of religion is not a search for such an explanation, even a crude one. Rather, on Hume's view the only curiosity at work is a curiosity about how to cope: the propensity to a system is the propensity to the kind of determinacy which is expedient for control, and the only satisfaction the system provides is one in terms of a coping which is independent of truth-seeking...

Levinas himself raises the question: "why would I feel responsible in the presence of the Face" since "we are separate ontological beings?" This questions the character of our response to the other--both in terms of agency and motivation. While the general reception of Levinas's thought has focused on his description of us as "hostage"--that is, on the moment of assignation (or assignment) by the other--I suggest that Levinas himself also, though not as directly, addresses (as he needs to) the correlative moment, the moment of response. My essay reconstructs Levinas's implicit understanding of the character of our initiative in the light of his concept of Desire. I explore the different dimensions of Desire as appetite and generosity, and I argue that the "transition to moral consciousness" that Levinas wants to "justify" is one from complacent happiness to "non-complacent happiness" and can be illuminated by the notion of "passion seeking its downfall."

Levinas's ethics of other-centered service has been criticized at the theoretical level for failing to offer a conception of moral agency adequate to ground its imperative and at the practical level for encouraging self-hatred. Levinas's explicit resistance to the incorporation of the phrase "as yourself" in the Judaeo-Christian love command might seem to validate the critics' complaints. The author argues, on the contrary, that Levinas does offer a strong and compelling conception of moral agency and that his ethics, properly understood, does not entail self-abnegation. Levinas's attempt to counter excessive and manipulative self-concern and self-inflation by insisting on the dependent and situational position of the self has been wrongly overinterpreted as an abandonment of the self and its just claims. The author seeks to establish a more balanced understanding by focusing attention on the "ethics of welcome," on Levinas's distinctive conception of passivity, and on the role of "the third" in all human relations

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript by Merold WestphalM. Jamie FerreiraMerold Westphal. Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript.” West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 1996. Pp. xiii + 261. Cloth, $32.95. Paper, $16.95.The Purdue University Press Series in the History of Philosophy describes itself as attempting to provide insight into a philosopher by means of a focus on a single major text. Such a focus is unusual for a series in the history of philosophy, and Westphal’s [End Page 144] accomplishment in this study is a fine example of how fruitfully this can be done. Commentary on over six hundred pages of Kierkegaard’s Postscript is presented in ten manageable chapters, which follow the order of the Postscript and deal with segments of it ranging from as few as twelve pages to as many as one hundred and seventy-five pages. The result is a commentary which can wonderfully guide students through the Postscript in its entirety, or through the assignment of individual chapters to accompany discrete reading selections. Westphal’s discussions are informed by an unusually wide-ranging knowledge of the history of philosophy—he considers the text not only in relation to Plato, Aristotle, Hume, Kant, and Hegel, as others commentators have, but also brings to this work his clear strengths in phenomenological, existential, and postmodern thought (so we get useful comparisons with Gadamer, Derrida, Levinas, Heidegger, Husserl, Merleau-Ponty, and Sartre, among others). Lying behind Westphal’s entire approach to the book is his desire to address the two most common major criticisms of Kierkegaard’s thought, namely, that it is individualist and irrationalist. Thus, the major perspective from which everything is approached is the tension between the fallible yet responsible self—more precisely, the tension between individual and society, and the tension between irrationalist (voluntarist, blind) and rationalist. Westphal does a superb job of laying out the diversity of protests Climacus is registering in the Postscript—against Platonic intellectualism, against systematic philosophical speculation, and against the rhetorical compromising embodied in the “priest-orator.” There are, of course (as one would expect), sensible, suggestive, illuminating, and detailed exegeses of passages concerning all the significant themes associated with Climacus (approximation, appropriation, leap, direct communication, second reflection, dialectic, etc). Westphal examines the Postscript in the light of the distinction between Socratic religion and the non-Socratic (Christian) alternative found in the earlier Philosophical Fragments, to which this Postscript is an admittedly peculiar postscript, and employs material from much of Kierkegaard’s other work, including journal entries. With respect to the (in)famous category of leap, Westphal incorporates contemporary discussions of volitionalism and presents a fine summary of ways in which willing (decision) can be viewed as indirect, yet allowing the relevance of an ethics of belief. In fact, regarding even the commentary on “Truth Is Subjectivity,” where one might feel nothing new could be said, he manages to be innovative, by identifying “four moments” in the presentation of a theory of subjectivity (a satire, a parable, a definition, and a portrait) which make the chapter much more manageable for teaching. After considering Climacus’s presentation of the relation between Religiousness A and Religiousness B, Westphal appends a discussion of his own creation, Religiousness C (Chapter XIV). But all of this discussion would be unhelpful to a reader who does not fully appreciate the role of pseudonymity and indirect communication in Kierkegaard’s works; so Westphal prefaces his entire discussion with a fine chapter on pseudonymity which can be used even in courses where the entire book is not required reading. This chapter, relating pseudonymity to twentieth-century discussions of themes such as the effacement of the author of a text and the forfeiture of the privilege of authorship, is part of a three-chapter introduction setting the Postscript in relation to Kierkegaard’s biography, pseudonymity, and the familiar theory of the aesthetic, ethical, and religious stages. This entire introduction is written in a remarkably [End Page 145] engaging style which will surely seduce readers new to Kierkegaard and his creation, Johannes Climacus. For example, Westphal announces that “the flow of Regina’s...

Much has been made of the Kierkegaardian flavour of Wittgenstein's thought on religion, both with respect to its explicit allusions to Kierkegaard and its implicit appeals. Even when significant disparities between the two are noted, there remains an important core of de facto methodological agreement between them, addressing the limits of theory and the dispelling of illusion. The categories of ‘nonsense’ and ‘paradox’ are central to Wittgenstein's therapeutic enterprise, while the categories of ‘paradox’ and the ‘absurd’ are central to much of Kierkegaard's attempt to dispel religious illusion. Writing of how the ‘urge to thrust against the limits of language’ yields ‘nonsense’, Wittgenstein explicitly appealed to Kierkegaard: ‘Kierkegaard, too, recognized this thrust and even described it in much the same way ’. 1 I want to consider whether Kierkegaard's category of paradox of the absurd is assimilable to Wittgenstein's view of nonsense and paradox. I shall argue that a consideration of Wittgenstein's view of paradox can highlight contrasting strands in Kierkegaard's writings on religious faith, strands which take paradox more or less strictly – in particular, it can clarify several different opinions concerning the status of religious claims. My exploration will bring to the fore some implications of the attempt to make room, in the religious employment of language, for a ‘higher understanding’ of truths which we are said to be able to grasp but cannot express

What has become known as the ‘faith/history’ problem for historical religions like Christianity centres on the attempt to combine the ontological decisiveness, for faith, of an historical event characterized as an actual Incarnation of God with the epistemological indifference, or irrelevance, of historical information about that event which is decisive for faith. Without the former there is nothing to be related to or personally appropriated; without the latter faith is rendered vulnerable to the vagaries of historical research. Soren Kierkegaard's Climacus writings – the Philosophical Fragments and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript – provide a classic formulation of the inherent tension. Twentieth-century variations on the same theme are found in the writings of Paul Tillich and Rudolf Bultmann, among others. In what follows I want to highlight an element in Kierkegaard's Climacus account which crucially distinguishes his attempt to deal with the faith/history relation from other attempts to deal with it, and thus offers what I suggest is a novel approach to overcoming the tension. This element – effectively a kind of a priori or conceptual proof – has been neglected, and whatever one's final judgement on its contribution to the problem as a whole, a consideration of it and its implications is, at the very least, integral to a full understanding of the thought-experiment in the Fragments . Moreover, in the process, useful light can be shed indirectly on twentieth-century attempts to deal with the faith/history problem