Robert Sokolowski

This essay presents several examples of intentional analysis, explains what intentional analysis is, and clarifies the meaning of "noema" in Husserl. Issues treated are: the concept of proposition or judgment in Husserl, the phenomenon of vagueness as a matrix for judgments, identity as achieved in intentional acts, and identity and opaqueness of reference. The interpretations of the noema given by Mohanty, Föllesdal, Gurwitsch and others are criticized and are shown to stem from an inadequate conception of what philosophical (as opposed to propositional) reflection is.

EVERYONE IS INVOLVED in the question of being in one way or another. When we ask someone how to change the oil in an automobile, or what the diameter of the moon is, or how numbers are different from numerals, we are asking about being. Such interrogations, whether addressed to others or addressed by ourselves to ourselves, are particular questions about beings. But when as metaphysicians we raise the question of being, we do not pursue just one more of these particular investigations. We ask a question that is somehow essentially singular, a question that cannot be made into many. If our question were to become plural, it would be a sign that we have cut off only part of being for our study and that we allow still other questions of being to be raised concerning the parts we have left out. It would be a sign that we have turned being into a genus, into one kind among many. Somehow the question of being has to be complete and comprehensive in itself; it has to be one question; and it must get at issues that enable all the particular questions to arise and to be answered. It is not that the question of being has nothing to do with questions about automobile oil and the diameter of the moon and numbers and numerals; the question of being can be recognized in all these particular questions, but it cannot be reduced to being one like them.

WHEN WORDS APPEAR THEY INTERRUPT the dense continuity of things. Pictures do so as well, but in a different way. The things surrounding me form a dense continuum: my attention can move from one thing to another without leaving what is immediately there. I can go from the table to the rug to the chair to the lamp and to the wall. But if at some point I come to a picture, this plain sequence is broken, and although it may quickly be picked up again, it is interrupted by the picture. When I hit the picture, I am no longer just with what is immediately there. I am with the depicted as well as with what is itself there. It is as though a fourth spatial dimension suddenly came into play, not effacing but being added to the three that were and are there all along. A new horizon appears and is blended with the one in which I am engaged.