Blake Dutton

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 41.1 (2003) 130-131 [Access article in PDF] Steven Nadler. Spinoza's Heresy: Immortality and the Jewish Mind. New York: Oxford University Press, Clarendon Press, 2001. Pp. xvi + 225. Cloth, $35.00. Steven Nadler's Spinoza's Heresy opens with the following declaration: "It is a splendid mystery" (1). The mystery, of course, is how a gifted son of the Jewish community of Amsterdam, a young man whom one might have expected to grow naturally into the role of a respected rabbi, came to be expelled from that community. What Nadler finds so mysterious is not the simple fact of Spinoza's expulsion—itself a common form of discipline among the Jews of Amsterdam—but the vehemence and finality with which he was expelled. The writ of expulsion accuses Spinoza of "abominable heresies" and "monstrous deeds" and goes on to heap layer after layer of curse upon him. It is, in Nadler's judgment, the harshest writ ever to be pronounced against a member of that community. What, then, were the views so abominable and the deeds so monstrous that account for this? What had Spinoza said and done to raise such ire among his fellow Jews? That is the mystery Nadler's book attempts to solve.Needless to say, Nadler is not the first to take up this challenge. The question of what lay behind Spinoza's expulsion has been of perennial interest to scholars, and what keeps it alive, in part, is its resistance to definitive resolution. Most importantly, Spinoza had not yet begun to write at the time of his expulsion, and his surviving correspondence is silent on the matter. Nevertheless, it is tempting to look to his Ethics and Theological-Political Treatise for clues. But if we are to do so, as Nadler encourages us to, we must not only determine which of the views they contain can be attributed to the young Spinoza, but show how his holding of them explains the events that transpired.Nadler begins with the documentary evidence. Although sparse, the sources point to three views at the root of Spinoza's troubles: that God exists only philosophically; that the Law is not true; and that the soul is not immortal. Acknowledging that each of these may have played a role in the expulsion, Nadler singles out the last for special scrutiny and concludes that it was decisive. His reasons for doing so emerge in the last chapter of the book. Despite broad latitude within the Jewish tradition as a whole, the Jews of Amsterdam were particularly sensitive on the issue of immortality and did not take kindly those who denied it. Indeed, they had a history of confrontation with "heretics" on this issue. This was partly a function of a general concern not to arouse unwanted attention from the politically powerful Calvinists within Dutch society. But it also stemmed from an intense interest in the afterlife among the Sephardim, who, being of Marrano heritage, were naturally concerned about the postmortem fate of Jewish converts to Catholicism. Though the community was divided on what that fate would be, the entire debate on the question was carried out on the shared assumption of personal immortality. This, together with a deep commitment to immortality on the part of each of its leading rabbis, conspired to make Jewish Amsterdam an inhospitable place for anyone holding views like those Spinoza was to express. In Nadler's words, immortality "was simply the wrong issue to pick on in Jewish Amsterdam in the 1650's" (156).Nadler's thesis is intriguing, and the light that he throws on the Spinoza affair in the course of developing it is considerable. However, a question remains. Although Nadler does an impressive job of clarifying why Spinoza's views on the afterlife would have been so volatile within the Amsterdam community, we might still wonder why the other two theses he is reported to have held do not merit equal consideration. This is particularly true of his denial of the authority of the Law. Whatever...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Physics and Metaphysics in Descartes and GalileoBlake D. Duttonin his classic biography of Descartes, Charles Adam passes this judgment on the influence of Galileo’s condemnation on the development of Cartesian metaphysics:Sans la condemnation de Galilée, nous aurions eu tout de même la métaphysique de Descartes. Mais nous ne l’aurions problement pas eue sous la forme volumineuse qu’elle a prise avec toutes ces Objections et Reponses, qui font plus que quintupler les Méditations primitives.1(AT XII, 306)While not charging Descartes with dissimulation, Adam argues that the metaphysics was developed to deflect attention from the heart of the Cartesian system—its mechanistic physics—which posed a direct challenge to the reigning Aristotelianism. In his words, it served primarily as a “tent... to cover the merchandise (le pavilion... couvrir la marchandise)”(AT XII, 306).2Adam is certainly not alone in pointing to the Galileo affair as grounds for raising suspicions about the role of the metaphysics in Descartes’ larger work. In a recent biography, itself destined to become a classic, Stephen Gaukroger takes a similar line, arguing that it was Galileo’s failure to convince his opponents through arguments drawn from natural philosophy that prompted Descartes to seek acceptance of his own natural philosophy though metaphysical legitimation. Had Galileo not been silenced there would have been no impetus for Descartes to have developed a metaphysical argument; natural-philosophical [End Page 49] arguments would have sufficed.3 Thus, in the words of Gaukroger, Descartes’ project of metaphysical legitimation was “a task which he never even contemplated before the condemnation of Galileo in 1633, and... was a direct response to that condemnation.”4 If we are to believe Adam and Gaukroger, then, Descartes was first and foremost a natural philosopher whose extended venture into metaphysics was primarily a strategic response to the events of 1633.Despite the many merits of this line of interpretation, I believe it is trouble-some insofar as it isolates Descartes’ reaction to the condemnation from both his criticisms of Galileo’s science and his views on the relation between science and theology. In doing so, it overstates the degree to which Cartesian science can itself be isolated from Cartesian metaphysics. In what follows, then, I will contextualize Descartes’ reaction to the Galileo affair by examining his comments on Galileo’s scientific work and the relation of his own views on science and theology to those of Galileo. Two results will emerge. First, we will see that if we fail to take Descartes’ search for metaphysical foundations as having a genuinely scientific motivation, not only will we render his criticisms of Galileo’s science unintelligible, but we will fail to understand the distinctive nature of his science vis-à-vis Galileo’s. This will become clear as we examine the work of each on motion and the fall of bodies. Second, we will see that it is only by taking Descartes’ metaphysical commitments as integral to his science that we can make sense of the divergent ways in which he and Galileo resolved the question of the relation of science to theology. Both, it is clear, sought to guarantee the autonomy of science, yet each did so in a way which mirrored his unique conception of science and its relation to metaphysics. All of this, I conclude, deflates the utility of appealing to Descartes’ concern over the Galileo affair as a means of assigning a primarily strategic or extra-scientific role to his metaphysics. [End Page 50]1. descartes on galilean scienceAlthough they were contemporaries, there is no evidence that Descartes and Galileo ever met or corresponded. There is also no strong evidence that the work of either had any significant influence on the work of the other, despite the fact that Descartes reports having leafed through the Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems and having obtained a copy of the Two New Sciences.5 However, we do find several references to Galileo in Descartes’ correspondence from which a general attitude toward the Italian scientist becomes reasonably clear. While occasionally being complimentary, Descartes appears to have been largely unimpressed and even claims to have arrived at several...