Steven Nadler

Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) was one of the most important philosophers of all time; he was also one of the most radical and controversial. The story of Spinoza's life takes the reader into the heart of Jewish Amsterdam in the seventeenth century and, with Spinoza's exile from Judaism, into the midst of the tumultuous political, social, intellectual, and religious world of the young Dutch Republic. This new edition of Steven Nadler's biography, winner of the Koret Jewish Book Award for biography and translated into a dozen languages, is enhanced by exciting new archival discoveries about his family background, his youth, and the various philosophical, political, and religious contexts of his life and works. There is more detail about his family's business and communal activities, about his relationships with friends and correspondents, and about the development of his writings, which were so scandalous to his contemporaries.

The story of one of the most important—and incendiary—books in Western history When it appeared in 1670, Baruch Spinoza's Theological-Political Treatise was denounced as the most dangerous book ever published—"godless," "full of abominations," "a book forged in hell... by the devil himself." Religious and secular authorities saw it as a threat to faith, social and political harmony, and everyday morality, and its author was almost universally regarded as a religious subversive and political radical who sought to spread atheism throughout Europe. Yet Spinoza's book has contributed as much as the Declaration of Independence or Thomas Paine's Common Sense to modern liberal, secular, and democratic thinking. In A Book Forged in Hell, Steven Nadler tells the fascinating story of this extraordinary book: its radical claims and their background in the philosophical, religious, and political tensions of the Dutch Golden Age, as well as the vitriolic reaction these ideas inspired. It is not hard to see why Spinoza's Treatise was so important or so controversial, or why the uproar it caused is one of the most significant events in European intellectual history. In the book, Spinoza became the first to argue that the Bible is not literally the word of God but rather a work of human literature; that true religion has nothing to do with theology, liturgical ceremonies, or sectarian dogma; and that religious authorities should have no role in governing a modern state. He also denied the reality of miracles and divine providence, reinterpreted the nature of prophecy, and made an eloquent plea for toleration and democracy. A vivid story of incendiary ideas and vicious backlash, A Book Forged in Hell will interest anyone who is curious about the origin of some of our most cherished modern beliefs.

Oxford University Press is proud to present the third volume in a new annual series, presenting a selection of the best current work in the history of philosophy. Oxford Studies in Early Modern Philosophy focuses on the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries---the extraordinary period of intellectual flourishing that begins, very roughly, with Descartes and his contemporaries and ends with Kant. It also publishes papers on thinkers or movements outside of that framework, provided they are important in illuminating early modern thought. The articles in OSEMP will be of importance to specialists within the discipline, but the editors also intend that they should appeal to a larger audience of philosophers, intellectual historians, and others who are interested in the development of modern thought.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Descartes and Augustine by Stephen MennSteven NadlerStephen Menn. Descartes and Augustine. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Pp. xvi + 415. Cloth, $74.95.As most readers of this journal well know, scholars in the history of philosophy can, however roughly, be divided into two distinct (and sometimes antagonistic) camps: those who think that work on the great philosophers of the past should focus almost exclusively on an analysis of their theses and arguments, and those who believe that we cannot truly understand any philosopher’s ideas without serious investigation into the historical, philosophical and even more general intellectual context of their thought. Stephen Menn’s book is a profoundly good example of the latter school.While it is undeniable that Descartes was strongly influenced by his Jesuit education and by his later reading of latter-day scholastics like Suarez, and that he was motivated in part by a desire to move philosophy beyond its sterile and unprogressive Aristotelian paradigm, one of the crucial questions in Cartesian scholarship concerns the extent to which Descartes was himself an Augustinian Platonist. In this long, brilliant, learned, at times tedious but generally fascinating study, Menn argues that in terms of both method and substance, with respect to motivation, discipline and goals, there was no thinker more important for Descartes’s intellectual development and philosophical project than St. Augustine. Taking on the great triumvirate of French Cartesian scholarship—Gilson, Gueroult and Gouhier, all of whom argued that, while it is possible to find Augustinian elements in Descartes’s philosophy, nonetheless his thought is radically anti-Augustinian, sharing neither “the Augustinian spirit nor the Augustinian conception of philosophy itself” (8–10)—Menn insists that Augustinian principles inform and sustain in a very deep way Descartes’s metaphysics and epistemology. Moreover, Descartes’s general philosophical project is fundamentally the same as that of the Bishop of Hippo: to show how true wisdom can be born only from scientia. For Descartes, this means showing how the failure of Aristotelian science should lead not to a suspicion of science in general, nor to limiting oneself to a skeptical prudentialist moralizing (such as that of the Renaissance humanists), but to a true wisdom based on certain knowledge of the world. That knowledge of the world will, of course, be a mechanistic one, but it will be grounded in an Augustinian metaphysics. In the end—and here is where Menn most clearly takes issue with Gilson [End Page 625] and Co.—the project is to reconcile Christianity and philosophical knowing, precisely what Augustine set out to do.Understanding Augustine, Menn claims, requires an understanding of Plotinus and the Platonist tradition. And this, he further insists, demands that we know the essential elements of Plato’s metaphysics itself. Menn’s pursuit of depth and attention to detail can sometimes be wearying—do we really need in a book such as this a discussion of the variations in Plato’s explanation of how sensible particulars relate to intelligibles between the middle and late dialogues?—but in the end most of it pays off. We find out what Augustine found of value in his reading of Plotinus and what he needed to leave behind. Of the greatest importance, especially for someone seeking to move beyond the materialism of the Manicheans, was a conception of the human soul as an incorporeal thing and an understanding of God or nous as an immaterial and transcendent source of being and, through illumination, of knowledge. “[Augustine] went to the Platonists to learn a method for understanding God and the soul, and he accepts a great deal of the doctrine that comes from this way of understanding them, but he knew from the beginning what it was he wanted to understand: it was the God and the human souls described in the Christian scriptures” (166).What Descartes wanted was much the same, although he hoped to put it to further use by returning from the heights of metaphysics to the most general science of the natural world (physics) and the particular, practical sciences (wisdom) that follow from it. If he could successfully ground his physics in proper metaphysical first principles, then his philosophical goals would...

One of the more difficult tasks that Clerselier faced in bringing out his 1664 edition of the Traité de l'homme was securing the illustrations, eventually composed by La Forge and Gutschoven. After considering the chronology of this frustrating process, which is interesting in its own right, I will examine the illustrations themselves, comparing them with Schuyl’s illustrations for his 1662 Latin edition, and especially in the light of what Clerselier says were the intended purpose of such illustrations.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:In MemoriamSteven Nadler, PresidentIt is with deep sadness that the Board of Directors of the Journal of the History of Philosophy, Inc., mourn the passing of Gerald Press, who died suddenly on December 26, 2022, at the age of seventy-seven.Jerry was a longtime member of the JHP Board. He was book review editor for the Journal from 1990 to 1997, and editor from 1998 to 2003. He also served terms as treasurer and vice president.Jerry received his PhD in 1974 from the University of California-San Diego, where he worked with Richard Popkin (who established the Journal in 1957). He was a professor of philosophy at Hunter College and the CUNY Graduate Center for forty years and proud chair of the Thomas Hunter Honors Program from 2012 to 2020. A specialist in ancient Greek philosophy, Jerry was the author of Plato: A Guide for the Perplexed (2007), as well as numerous articles and reviews. He was also editor of the volumes Plato's Dialogues: New Studies and Interpretations (1993); Who Speaks for Plato? Studies in Platonic Anonymity (2000); and The Continuum Guide to Plato (2012).A passionate teacher, dedicated mentor, and learned scholar, Jerry was warm, generous, and totally unpretentious. He will be greatly missed by his many students, colleagues, and friends. Our condolences go out to his family. [End Page 1]Copyright © 2023 Journal of the History of Philosophy, Inc....

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:New Essays on the RationalistsSteven NadlerRocco J. Gennaro and Charles Huenemann, editors. New Essays on the Rationalists. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Pp. xvii + 391. Cloth, $60.00.Here is yet another collection of essays on early modern philosophy. The focus this time is on the Seventeenth century, in particular "the rationalists." What this apparently involves is, as the old-fashioned classification has it, Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz. But there is no overall theme to the essays, nothing uniting them besides the fact that almost all are devoted to those three thinkers and the fact that the volume was inspired by a summer seminar run by Jonathan Bennett.What the editors mean by "the rationalists" (besides the extensional definition) is [End Page 437] thinkers "united in the belief that the intellect and human reason are powerful tools in our ability to know about the ultimate nature of mind and matter." What is supposed to separate "the rationalists" from "the empiricists" is "a belief in the power of human reason" (xv). This is a fairly weak claim; and I, for one, am skeptical that such categories are truly useful (or even valid—one would be hard-pressed to find a single issue on which Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz all agree and on which those who are usually called "empiricists" unanimously dissent). In the light of so much important and creative work done over the last twenty years in seventeenth-century philosophy, it would have been nice to see a volume devoted to "the rationalists" include at least one sophisticated discussion of the legitimacy and grounds of such a label.The essays in this book are divided into three categories: Matter and Substance; Freedom and Necessity; and Mind and Consciousness. The contributors are a broad mix of scholars: some established and accomplished, others new and up-and-coming. The quality of the work is consistently high. There is a lot of detailed and careful work here, both in the attention to the historical texts and in philosophical analyses. However, not all of the essays are of great scope or interest; in fact, most are not. There is a definite tendency toward the small-scale (but not brevity): a concern with micro-problems (for example, the chapter by Clarence Bonnen and Daniel Flage, "Distinctness," is devoted to the question of what the "distinctness" of an idea is for Descartes) and an emphasis on theses and arguments (such as Geoffrey Gorham's examination of the "similarity condition" for causation in Descartes, "Causation and Similarity in Descartes,"). If there is indeed an "analytical" way of doing history of philosophy, that school is well represented here.And then there are a couple of essays that stand out by transcending this narrowness of focus. The chapters by Catherine Wilson ("The Illusory Nature of Leibniz's System") and Don Garrett ("Teleology in Spinoza and Early Modern Rationalism") are, without question, the boldest and most interesting of the collection. Wilson argues that, in the light of Leibniz's changing and inconsistent views on substance, there really is no metaphysical "system" in his philosophy. Garrett, in what is, to my mind, the best essay in the book (although I think I disagree with him), defends an account of teleology in Spinoza's metaphysics, and then compares Spinoza's views on teleology with those of Aristotle, Descartes, and Leibniz; he concludes that Spinoza not only accepted teleological explanations of particular phenomena, but did so more strongly than anyone else in the modern period. Experts will, of course, disagree with the claims made by Wilson and Garrett; that is what this game is all about. But it is truly refreshing to see scholars such as these taking on large-scale issues.It is worth noting that there is also a nice, indirect dialogue between two of the essays: Charles Huenemann's interesting account of a consistent necessitarianism in Spinoza ("The Necessity of Finite Modes and Geometrical Containment in Spinoza's Metaphysics,") and Edwin Curley and Gregory Walski's argument (in "Spinoza's Necessitarianism Reconsidered,") that, when it comes to the finite modes, Spinoza is not a strong or absolute necessitarian. What is truly unfortunate about the collection, however...

BOOK REVIEWS 143 level of ignorance. I was, for example, surprised to learn that haecceitas is a compara- tively rare term in Scotus rather than signate matter. In his Introduction and Epilogue Gracia nicely counterbalances the tendency to- ward fragmentation stemming from the disparate accounts of individuality in the various thinkers represented in the volume. He does this, first, by highlighting for the reader the basic issues surrounding the problem of individuality, such as the concep- tion of individuality, the extension of the term 'individual', the ontological status of individuality, the principle of individuation, the discernibility of individuals, and lin- guistic reference to individuals. Secondly, he sums up the achievement of the thinkers of this period with regard to individuation. His speculation on why the question of individuality and individuation received the emphasis it did in scholastic thought, namely, because Christianity placed an emphasis upon the individual in a way that Greek thought never did, strikes me as quite plausible. I would suggest by way of addition that Scholasticism was also forced to develop a philosophical account of indi- viduality, precisely because some of the Aristotelian doctrines that entered the Chris- tian West, especially in the thought of Avicenna and Averroes, were quite opposed to forms of individuality: for example, the...

The story of one of the most important—and incendiary—books in Western history When it appeared in 1670, Baruch Spinoza's Theological-Political Treatise was denounced as the most dangerous book ever published—"godless," "full of abominations," "a book forged in hell... by the devil himself." Religious and secular authorities saw it as a threat to faith, social and political harmony, and everyday morality, and its author was almost universally regarded as a religious subversive and political radical who sought to spread atheism throughout Europe. Yet Spinoza's book has contributed as much as the Declaration of Independence or Thomas Paine's Common Sense to modern liberal, secular, and democratic thinking. In A Book Forged in Hell, Steven Nadler tells the fascinating story of this extraordinary book: its radical claims and their background in the philosophical, religious, and political tensions of the Dutch Golden Age, as well as the vitriolic reaction these ideas inspired. It is not hard to see why Spinoza's Treatise was so important or so controversial, or why the uproar it caused is one of the most significant events in European intellectual history. In the book, Spinoza became the first to argue that the Bible is not literally the word of God but rather a work of human literature; that true religion has nothing to do with theology, liturgical ceremonies, or sectarian dogma; and that religious authorities should have no role in governing a modern state. He also denied the reality of miracles and divine providence, reinterpreted the nature of prophecy, and made an eloquent plea for toleration and democracy. A vivid story of incendiary ideas and vicious backlash, A Book Forged in Hell will interest anyone who is curious about the origin of some of our most cherished modern beliefs.

Over the last two decades there has been an increasing interest in the influence of medieval Jewish thought upon Spinoza's philosophy. The essays in this volume, by Spinoza specialists and leading scholars in the field of medieval Jewish philosophy, consider the various dimensions of the rich, important, but vastly under-studied relationship between Spinoza and earlier Jewish thinkers. It is the first such collection in any language, and together the essays provide a detailed and extensive analysis of how different elements in Spinoza's metaphysics, epistemology, moral philosophy, and political and religious thought relate to the views of his Jewish philosophical forebears, such as Maimonides, Gersonides, Ibn Ezra, Crescas, and others. The topics addressed include the immortality of the soul, the nature of God, the intellectual love of God, moral luck, the nature of happiness, determinism and free will, the interpretation of Scripture, and the politics of religion.