Eric v.d. Luft

In a wise and forceful reaction against his training in analytic philosophy, Vaught fervently seeks a genuinely human wholeness in life. But while this wholeness at once involves and integrates our origins, our goals, our existential contingency, our social roles, and our orientation in the cosmos and with respect to God, still: "Wholeness is not to be equated with completeness, and fragmentation is not a problem that can be dealt with at the exclusively reflective level". Such a Kierkegaardian denial of the efficacy of speculation in what is essentially a religious facet of the individual naturally brings Vaught into conflict with Hegel, and Vaught does not evade this challenge. The consideration of Hegel is the last of the four "images" which constitute the book, the first three being Melville's Moby Dick, the Bible's Hebrew patriarchs, and Plato's Euthyphro. Each "image" is designed to occupy a middle ground between systematic philosophy and direct experience--and indeed to be just a "story"--so that the "storyteller" Vaught may present each as a "version," rather than as an abstract or a part, of the whole.

Guess the defined words and write them below, one letter per numbered blank. Transfer each letter of these words to the appropriate numbered square in the diagram. The filled-in diagram should contain a quotation reading from left to right. Only black squares, not ends of lines, indicate word endings, The first letters of the guessed words should give, reading vertically, the author of the quotation and the title of the work from which it was taken. Veteran readers of the Saturday Review and the Sunday New York Times should already be familiar with such double-crostic puzzles, which were originally developed by Elizabeth S. Kingsley, Doris Nash Wortman, and Thomas H. Middleton.

Kenley Dove’s article [OWL, IX-4] seems to overlook that certain thinker who could probably be the key to the proper elucidation of Hegel’s thought on creativity, i.e. Plotinus. Dove’s threefold breakdown of classical Greek and medieval Christian ideas of creation is cogent, though he fails to include the Neo-Platonic bridge which could not only harmonize for him the “deterministic” metaphysics of the Greeks with the ex nihilo “free-act-of-God” metaphysics of Aquinas, but also provide him with a way to understand that Hegel represents a reconciliation of all of these positions.

This book is a rarity in the currently popular "physics-for-poets" genre insofar as it has a legitimate claim to the interests of metaphysicians and philosophers of science. The author is a veteran scholar who has achieved the unusual combination of professional respectability and commercial success. Although the nonscientific reader may at first be intimidated by the book's clutter of technical jargon, and although readers from all backgrounds may be annoyed by Comfort's compressed style and faddish language, colloquialisms, and mixed metaphors, the text is still quite readable, both since Comfort has provided a useful glossary of technical terms and since his presentation, while difficult in both form and content, is often witty and provocative--and never dull. But one who likes this book could also reasonably be expected to like Finnegan's Wake.

Ancient texts show Democritus as contemptuous and tradition represents him as a laugher. These two aspects of character are easily merged, as we see in Nietzsche, who in this regard is very much the heir of Democritus. The humor in Nietzsche's writings is not extraneous to his philosophy, but coextensive with his thought and an integral expression of his contempt for the targets of his philosophical attacks. Insofar as Nietzsche's humor is neither stylistic, rhetorical, nor intended to emphasize philosophical points antecedent to his process of joking about them, we cannot understand Nietzsche unless we get his jokes.

The process of optimizing psychical distance to achieve the best possible aesthetic effect has been well-known among philosophers of art ever since Edward Bullough formulated the concept in 1912. Although it is typically analyzed as a one-way process, it nevertheless becomes a reciprocal or intersubjective process when the object of our aesthetic perception is our “other.” This is equally true for animal “others” as for our fellow human “others.” Anything animate can fix us in its gaze and thereby prompt or even force us toward self-confrontation as an object of someone or something else’s perception. This reciprocity may be manifest as a sort of psychological pas de deux between the two confronting subjects, each confronting the other as object, each recognizing the other as subject, and each confronting its own self as recognizer of this relationship and recipient of this attention. The level of our awareness of our being an object for some “other” subject has a proportionately significant impact on our aesthetic perception of this “other, ” i.e., the fact that an “other” perceives us adds a dimension of “unnatural” intersubjectivity which changes our aesthetic appreciation of that “other.”

Lofts’s purpose is to interpret Cassirer in the light of francophone post-structuralist thought, particularly that of Jacques Lacan. Portraying a cautious neo-Kantian as a proto-post-structuralist may seem almost perverse, but the notion has potential. Unfortunately, the book reads as if it were still in rough draft. Its sections are disconnected, its arguments and insights are truncated or aphoristic, its style is careless, and it is poorly edited. Orthographical and typographical errors abound, even to the point of printing Lofts’s own name wrong once. The long note about Hegel repeats previous text. Lofts’s analysis does not flow with the stream of the history of philosophy, but rather leaps from stone to stone in that stream, lingering too long on some stones and avoiding others. Dilthey, Gadamer, and Habermas, for example, are conspicuously absent from the discussion. Originally presented as Lofts’s dissertation, this book seems not yet to have proceeded far enough beyond that phase to warrant wider distribution.

Yovel is a prolific, diligent, and sagacious Israeli scholar who has published extensively on Maimonides, Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, and Nietzsche, and who holds named chairs in philosophy at both Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the New School for Social Research. That such a prominent Jewish intellectual has created a perceptive book-length analysis of an important topic which frequently inspires articles and books by non-Jews is a welcome addition to the literature on German philosophy. It is all the more welcome since Yovel’s study is philosophical rather than political or ideological, applies an accurate comparative reading of a wide variety of Hegel’s and Nietzsche’s texts, and sees their separate estimations of the Jews respectively in the light of each’s entire philosophical project.