Bob Plant

In the following paper I shall outline a number of preliminary ideas concerning the relationship between the Holocaust and certain themes which emerge in the work of Emmanuel Levinas. As this relationship is distinctly twofold, my analysis will include both a textual and a rather more speculative component. That is to say, while I shall argue that reading Levinas specifically as a post-Holocaust thinker clarifies a number of his philosophical and rhetorical motifs, so, in turn, does this challenging body of work offer a means by which to re-think both the horror and ethical significance of the Holocaust itself. During the course of my argument I shall additionally refer to the writings of Primo Levi, Jacques Derrida and Martin Heidegger through whom I hope also to establish the central role guilt and confession play in Levinas’s own thinking.

This article argues for four interrelated claims: Metaphilosophy is not one sub-discipline of philosophy, nor is it restricted to questions of methodology. Rather, metaphilosophical inquiry encompasses the general background conditions of philosophical practice. These background conditions are of various sorts, not only those routinely considered “philosophical” but also those considered biographical, historical, and sociological. Accordingly, we should be wary of the customary distinction between what is proper and merely contingent to philosophy. “What is philosophy?” is best understood as a practical question concerning how members of different philosophical sub-communities identify what is pertinent to their respective activities and self-conceptions. Given –, understanding what philosophy is requires us to take more seriously the social-institutional dimension of contemporary philosophical practice.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 27.2 (2003) 456-470 [Access article in PDF] Ethics without Exit:Levinas and Murdoch Bob Plant Hearts open very easily to the working class, wallets with more difficulty. What opens with the most difficulty of all are the doors of our own homes. —Emmanuel Levinas, Nine Talmudic Readings... there is no debt to acquit. From the outset, I am not exonerated. I am originally in default. —Emmanuel Levinas, God, Death, and TimeIN HIS RECENT ARTICLE "Emmanuel Levinas and Iris Murdoch: Ethics as Exit?," C. Fred Alford highlights a number of insightful comparisons—and many important contrasts—between the respective conceptions of ethics proffered by Levinas and Murdoch. Alford's avowed objective is to "criticize Levinas sympathetically," or to "disrupt" what has come to be known as "the Levinas Effect" and the tendency of many commentators to make Levinas "become everything to everyone." 1 Given what one commentator calls "the facile 'postmodern' temptation to lump together all differences under the general rubric of the 'Other,'" 2 Alford's objective is, I believe, wholly commendable. (As Arthur Schopenhauer pithily remarks: "the man who is everyone's friend is no one's friend." 3) Nevertheless, in the following discussion I want to "disrupt" Alford's own reading of Levinas; not, I hope, to make the latter simply a conduit for saying "whatever.... [I] wanted to say in the first place" (p. 24), but to present a fuller picture of Levinas's singularly difficult, evocative and often puzzling philosophy. I shall do this by critically responding to and developing a number of points [End Page 456] Alford explicitly raises. To what extent my reading of Levinas aligns him with Murdoch, I leave for others far better qualified to assess.Let us be clear from the start, Levinas is—as Hilary Putnam rightly notes—a "moral perfectionist." 4 But this is not to say that Levinas's work is "otherworldly." Although Alford does not use this latter term, it is clearly implied in his analysis. Thus, contrasting Levinas and Murdoch, he remarks that, "like Levinas, Murdoch's goal is to go beyond the limits of the self. Unlike Levinas, Murdoch is content to remain within a world of beings" (p. 37), and likewise, that Murdoch wants us to "climb the ladder of love only high enough to be free of their vanity and egoism, but never so high as to leave the world behind" (p. 38). According to Alford, "the other is an abstraction for Levinas.... Only at a distance is the other abstract enough to remind us of infinity" (p. 25)—indeed, a "barely contained passion for otherness, exit, and transcendence runs through Levinas" (p. 40). In a similar vein we are told that, for Levinas, "the self is remarkably real, a tangible fleshy thing.... and a barrier to infinity," and it is "for this reason,... a shattering experience is necessary, like that of Saul on the road to Damascus, an experience that does not bring me closer to my deliverer.... Only this can open me up—not to reality, but to infinity" (p. 38). More pointedly still, Alford asserts: "Levinas was never interested in the concrete reality of the other person, whose fleshy reality can only get in the way of transcendence" (p. 37). Thus, although he acknowledges that Levinas "often writes about ethical relationships as though they were real relationships with real people" ("what is not true is that Levinas is talking about some Other more august and transcendent than real other people.... we know the infinite only through other people"), Alford nevertheless defends his own "turning to Murdoch" on the grounds that she is "a theorist who remains strictly within the realm of everyday life, finding there subtleties of knowing, caring, and being that Levinas believes come only by way of the infinite" (p. 34).While Levinas's attitude toward the "everyday" or "ordinary" is hardly transparent (after all, the imperative of the other's face is said to come "from most high outside the world" 5 ), Alford overstates the "otherworldly" aspect of the former's ethics. Against the allegation that Levinas...

In "The History of Sexuality", Foucault maintains that "Western man has become a confessing animal" (1990, 59), thus implying that "man" was not always such a creature. On a related point, Wittgenstein suggests that "man is a ceremonial animal" (1996, 67); here the suggestion is that human beings are, by their very nature, ritualistically inclined. In this paper I examine this crucial difference in emphasis, first by reconstructing Foucault's "genealogy" of confession, and subsequently by exploring relevant facets of Wittgenstein's later thinking. While there are significant correlations between Foucault and Wittgenstein, an important disparity emerges in relation to the question of the "natural." By critically analyzing this, I show how Wittgenstein's minimal naturalism provides an important corrective to Foucault's more extravagant claims. By implication, we see why any radical relativist, historicist, and/or constructivist position becomes untenable on Wittgensteinian grounds, even though Wittgenstein himself is often read as promoting such views