Wesley De Sena

In the essay "Philosophy and the Meaning of Life," found within the book "Philosophical Explanations," Robert Nozick proposes that the key to comprehending how theistic religions can impart meaning to human existence lies in the concept of God's boundless nature. This unlimited quality is an expansive backdrop, capable of imbuing the comparatively finite lives of theists with profound meaning. Furthermore, Nozick argues that meaningful lives are not restricted solely to the theistic realm defined by God's boundlessness because, paradoxically, God's boundlessness imposes a limitation upon itself. This perspective emerges from Nozick's theory of "limited transcendence," which involves transcending our inherent limitations to connect with a broader context that possesses limitations but imparts meaning to our lives—albeit within defined boundaries (Nozick, 25). In essence, Nozick's theory suggests that meaning can be found in life beyond the confines of theistic religion.

In the poem "Reuben Bright," the speaker initially harbors a prejudiced view of Reuben, a butcher, but this prejudice transforms into awe as the speaker observes Reuben's profound change following the death of his wife. The poem delves into the theme of loss experienced by a wife and the ensuing pain endured by her husband, resulting in a profound and shattering event that triggers significant personal growth. The central focus of the poem lies in the consequential changes that Reuben undergoes as a result of this tragic event. Despite the dramatic context, the reader is guided through the poem by a distanced speaker who consistently refers to Reuben in the third person. This distancing creates two layers of separation between the reader and Reuben: one between the speaker and Reuben and another between the reader and the speaker. This sense of detachment is evident in the poem's sestet, part of an Italian sonnet, and contains symbolic imagery in the form of chopped-up cedar boughs, alluding to Reuben's spiritual transformation. Additionally, the communal change in perception of Reuben is highlighted in the only two instances where the lyric "I" of the speaker appears in the poem, emphasizing the shift in the speaker's viewpoint from prejudice towards Reuben to a profound sense of awe.

Thomas Mann's "Death in Venice" is a profound fable, delivering a poignant moral lesson: suppressing one's desires can lead to distortion and an unhealthy, obsessive attachment. This, in turn, may trigger frantic and perverse attempts to obtain the initial object of desire. Aschenbach's inability to confront and satisfy his sexual urges ultimately becomes his undoing. This moral framework enables me to delve deeper into Aschenbach's actions, shedding light on the underlying animal instincts that drive his inner struggle. As a character, Aschenbach embodies the archetype of the rational individual who endeavors to govern his primal, carnal urges. However, when his intellectual defenses crumble in the face of his raw desires, the battle between restraint and longing escalates into a whirlwind of uncontrollable actions. These actions catch Aschenbach off guard, and he never anticipated falling victim to them, nor did he mistrust his ability to control them. Paradoxically, he regains a semblance of control through his commitment to literary honor and morality.

In his work "Treatise on the Negation of the Person," Vasubandhu presents an argument that challenges the conventional understanding of the self, asserting that it can be conceptually and ontologically reduced to the aggregates. This stance is a direct response to the beliefs of Buddhist Personalists, who argue that while a self may be conceptually dependent on the aggregates, it cannot be ontologically reduced to them, as it points to something beyond the aggregates. At the heart of this debate lies the profound conviction that adherence to the self generates attachments, giving rise to desires that ultimately lead to suffering. The key objective is to seek a resolution to this suffering, as encapsulated in the idea that "negative affections arise from grasping-as-self" (Kapstein 350). In my perspective, the Buddhist Personalists offer a more accurate but somewhat incomplete understanding of the self. This is because Vasubandhu's argument, advocating for the conceptual and ontological reduction of the self to the aggregates, does not convincingly demonstrate how unconscious aggregates alone can account for the conscious unification of experiences.

During the 19th century, Emily Dickinson likely grappled with the intricate philosophical and theological responses to the metaphysical quandary of the body-soul duality. Philosophers constructed their arguments on empirical reasoning, contending that our bodies' existence equates to our existence. The soul, however, presented a challenge in terms of empirical evidence. Conversely, theologians championed the concept of the soul as an explanatory framework for the intricacies of the human mind. Their stance emphasized that just because the soul remains imperceptible does not negate its existence; faith in both the soul and God was paramount. These two camps, philosophers and theologians, engaged in a spirited discourse. Theologians disapproved of what they perceived as the philosophers' reliance on mere intellectual speculation, while philosophers were disheartened by what they saw as fervent religious zealotry. Within this intellectual landscape, thinkers like Charles Peirce and William James engaged in lively debates at nearby Harvard University during Emily Dickinson's lifetime. In this paper, I argue that, in "I am Afraid to Own a Body," Emily Dickinson takes her speaker and readers on a transcendent journey, surpassing the limits of even the most eloquent philosophical discourse or theological teachings.

This paper primarily focuses on a pivotal argument within "The Great Learning" between Chu Hsi and Wang Yang-ming. Specifically, this argument revolves around whether one should prioritize investigating things before cultivating the sincerity of will or vice versa. In simpler terms, does genuine sincerity need to precede the exploration of a matter one deeply cares about, or does sincerity naturally evolve due to the initial investigation of the issue? Through thoroughly exploring various issues stemming from Chu Hsi's perspective, I contend that Wang Yang-ming's stance, asserting that the sincerity of one's will should precede the investigation of things, appears more compelling than Chu Hsi's viewpoint. Furthermore, I extend this argument to draw parallels with Śaṅkara's "A Thousand Teachings," which similarly underscores the necessity of sincerity of will preceding the examination of matters, given Śaṅkara's stringent criteria for his students.

In a chapter from his book, "Confrontation with the Reaper," Feldman critiques Epicurus' assertion that nothing inherently negative befalls us after death. However, it is essential to note that the Epicurean argument is more nuanced than Feldman suggests. In this chapter, Feldman undertakes a comprehensive revision of the Epicurean argument, incorporating numerous assumptions supported by evidence to comprehend it. This multiplicity of revisions makes it challenging to trace how Feldman distorts the original Epicurean argument. In this paper, I will endeavor to reconstruct Feldman's line of reasoning, focusing on his conclusion, which posits that death, by depriving the deceased of the intrinsic value of life, introduces an extrinsic evil. According to this view, had death not occurred, the person would have continued to enjoy the intrinsic value of life. However, it is arguable that death does not deprive a person of the intrinsic good inherent in life because, without death, one would still have the opportunity to experience the intrinsic value of life. This perspective finds support in the examples I present to counter Feldman's conclusion: the cases of a cancer patient, a devout Christian, and a Buddhist philosopher who all met their demise.

In Taber's work, "A Hindu Critique of Buddhist Epistemology," Kumārila tackles the concept of perception in MS 1.1.4 and asserts that perception cannot serve as a means to comprehend Dharma. His argument revolves around the idea that perception apprehends objects in the present, while Dharma's outcomes lie in the future. This distinction holds significance because, according to Kumārila, only the Veda can be a valid means of understanding Dharma. However, I contend that the definition of perception presented in MS 1.1.4 can be a viable method for comprehending Dharma. Kumārila defends the Veda's eternality, resulting in a unique Vedic concept of time that amalgamates past, present, and future into an ever-existing present. Given this perspective, when perception, as defined in MS 1.1.4, apprehends an object in the present, it extends the possibility of grasping the outcomes of Dharma in the future. This is possible because the Vedic conception of time posits an eternal continuum where past, present, and future coexist. Consequently, the proposed definition of perception in MS 1.1.4 can be a legitimate means of gaining knowledge about Dharma.

In this paper, I delve into the methodologies employed by scholars such as Otto Schrader, Krishna Belvalkar, Franklin Edgerton, and Vishwa Adluri to substantiate the potential existence of a Kashmiri recension of the Bhagavad Gita through the application of the lectio principle. The lectio difficilior, or "harder reading," posits that a more complex and challenging reading in a text is likely to be the older and superior one, as scribes tend to simplify intricate passages into more straightforward forms, known as the lectio facilior, in later versions of a text. The lectio principle prominently shapes the discourse of these scholars regarding the plausibility of a Kashmiri recension of the Bhagavad Gita.

In this paper, I aim to explore the intricate interplay between slavery and the concept of evil, ultimately seeking a deeper understanding of their relationship. While critically evaluating these notions, I posit that solely relying on a historical analysis of contingent acts of evil, as proposed by Steven Mintz in his work "The Problem of Evil: Slavery, Freedom, and the Ambiguities of American Reform," falls short of providing a comprehensive moral perspective on the evil-slavery connection. To enhance the scope of this thesis, I advocate for including philosophical and theological perspectives—those that Mintz attempts to exclude. Such a multifaceted approach is essential because every contingency is inherently linked to some form of necessity. By acknowledging this link, we can gain more insight into contingent acts of evil, such as slavery. Thus, a holistic understanding of the relationship between evil and slavery necessitates historical analysis and philosophical and theological explanations regarding the underlying necessities that give rise to evil.

In his essay, “The End of Philosophy and the Task of Thinking,” Heidegger proposes the existence of uncharted avenues for intellectual exploration that transcend the confines of metaphysical philosophy. He articulates a more contemplative form of thinking, distinct from the incessant rationalization that permeates traditional discourse, transcending the dichotomy of rational and irrational thought. 2 In typical Heideggerian fashion, this paper lacks a central thesis but embarks on a journey to delve into Heidegger's relentless pursuit of novel modes of thought. Along this path, it also addresses the enduring bias within the realm of philosophy towards non-Western philosophies, specifically those rooted in the Indic tradition. This inquiry encompasses three essential facets: Andrea Nightingale's examination of Plato's role in shaping the philosophical discipline, Steven Burik's exploration of the link between early and later Heidegger's assertions about the culmination of philosophy and comparative philosophical thought, and Mehta's illuminating juxtaposition of Heideggerian Being with the concept of Vedāntic Brahman.

Boyd and Crosby's article "Zoroastrianism: Dualistic or Monotheistic?" explores various perspectives on this question. In their work, the authors delve into the dualistic and monotheistic aspects of Zoroastrianism, considering six different responses. These responses are subjected to rigorous philosophical examination, primarily focusing on how they address the challenge of evil. Ultimately, Boyd and Crosby propose a seventh response, which they find more compelling and philosophically robust than the previous six alternatives, aligning more closely with their criteria for rigorous scrutiny. This paper delves into the seven versions put forth by Boyd and Crosby and evaluates their efficacy in responding to Epicurus' formulation of the problem of evil mentioned earlier. Epicurus' formulation, structured as questions demanding answers, prompts an active engagement with its inquiries. I contend that while Boyd and Crosby's version does possess certain philosophical advantages over the others, it cannot ensure humanity's salvation. This limitation arises from their perspective, which allows for the possibility of viewing the world as progressively improving, a perspective that humanity may be hesitant to relinquish entirely. In the subsequent sections, I will (1) reconstruct the seven versions as presented by Boyd and Crosby, (2) subject each of them to the questions raised by Epicurus, (3) summarize the overarching analysis, and (4) conclude with some final remarks.

In this paper, I have constructed one likely relation between Schiller’s views on sexual desire and his general aesthetic value theory. I argue that beauty ennobles sexual desire when one rationally realizes that one did not choose to live in a state solely dominated by sexual desire. By allowing oneself to be in this state of aesthetic freedom, sexual desire grows into affection, and one experiences individual freedom. This thesis results from integrating Matherne and Riggle’s reconstruction of Schiller’s theory of aesthetic value in “Schiller on Freedom and Aesthetic Value” with my construction of Schiller’s relation of sexual desire to his theory of aesthetic value. In what follows, I will (1) present Matherne and Riggle’s reconstruction of Schiller’s theory, (2) extract the main arguments about sexual desire from letters three and twenty-seven, (3) combine both main arguments into Schiller’s unstated but likely argument for how one should ennoble sexual desire not only in kind but by beauty, (4) relate this major argument of Schiller’s views on sexual desire to his theory of aesthetic value, and then (5) conclude with final remarks.

In this paper, I argue that Callicles presents plausible reasons to accuse Socrates of employing subtle rhetorical maneuvers concerning the concepts of nature and convention. The central focus here is not whether Callicles' accusation against Socrates holds, but rather, it is an exploration of how Plato, through the dialogue between Socrates and Callicles, reveals the compelling rationale behind Callicles' belief in his correctness. Initially, Socrates treats Callicles as a worthy opponent in the conventional sense, engaging in dialectic discourse. However, as Socrates' philosophical approach fails to resonate with Callicles, it becomes apparent that Socrates holds a different perspective on Callicles than he initially expressed. To support this thesis, this paper will closely examine Callicles' Great Speech and Socrates' concise speeches preceding and following it.

Throughout Herman Hesse's "Demian," the strategic use of verbal irony is a powerful tool to shed light on Sinclair's arduous journey in navigating his immaturity and eventual growth. Sinclair's initial hesitancy to confront his callowness is evident as he cautiously explores his evolving sense of self through interactions with friends and family. He often cloaks his true feelings in indirect speech, avoiding confrontations with the consequences of his immaturity. As Sinclair matures, he finds himself straddling the delicate balance between the security of his familial cocoon and the intimidating outside world. He grapples with the fear that speaking his unfiltered thoughts and facing the repercussions might jeopardize the comfort of his closest relationships, guiding him on his path. Despite his awareness of the existential loneliness and isolation that awaits him beyond these relationships, he yearns for personal growth, even if it entails enduring solitude and pain. The use of verbal irony plays a pivotal role in illuminating the gradual transformation Sinclair undergoes as he shifts from callousness to a budding acceptance of his existential reality, ultimately coming to terms with his true self. This transformation is evident in moments such as when Demian chastises him for attempting to offer money to Kromer, when he grapples with the guilt of hurting Pistorius, and when his father confronts him during his time at the boarding school.

In the late 18th and early to mid-19th century, the secular approach of certain German scholars towards the study of Sanskrit in Europe significantly impacted the creation of the Wales Professorship of Sanskrit at Harvard. This influence stood in stark contrast to the religious concerns of some English scholars. While these English academics were focused on assisting in converting Hindus to Christianity, their German counterparts were pioneering the field of comparative philology. This dynamic led to the establishment of the Boden Professorship of Sanskrit at Oxford, the dominance of German scholars in teaching Sanskrit on the European continent, and the mentorship provided by German academics to early American scholars interested in studying India. These developments underscore the interplay between the secular, scholarly approach of German academics and the religious concerns of their English counterparts in the study of Sanskrit.

In his work "The Religion of the Future," Unger categorizes various philosophical perspectives under the term "Overcoming the World" (hereafter referred to as OW). However, this approach presents a significant issue, as Unger puts forth several metaphysical and epistemological claims about OW without clearly specifying which of these distinct philosophies align with his arguments. Notably, Unger includes Vedānta under the umbrella of OW without distinguishing between two closely related yet distinct traditions within Vedānta: Advaita and Dvaita Vedāntas. This lack of differentiation is problematic because Unger predominantly critiques the views of Advaita Vedānta, which, while sharing similarities with Buddhism, are not entirely synonymous. Dvaita Vedānta, on the other hand, holds positions that contradict many of Unger's assumptions about Vedānta. Consequently, Unger's presentation can mislead readers into assuming that Advaita and Dvaita Vedāntas are identical. While this paper will not delve into the motivations behind Unger's approach, it aims to introduce and elucidate some distinctive features within the Dvaita Vedānta tradition. These unique aspects shed light on why Unger's critique of Vedānta, in favor of his vision for a future religion, may be problematic and biased.

In her 1966 essay "Against Interpretation," Susan Sontag vehemently opposes specific methods of analyzing artworks that reduce them to mere examinations of their content. Sontag contends that interpretation often seeks to inject more meaning into the content than the artwork inherently possesses in its form. Consequently, she argues that interpretations that focus on content tend to devalue the significance of the artwork's form. Sontag asserts that content comprises the artwork's "prescriptive" ideas (12), which serve as a pathway for the viewer to grasp the artist's "picture of reality" or "statement" (4). This is achieved through an interpretation of the artwork's form. On the other hand, form encompasses the "descriptive" elements of the artwork (12), including figures, colors, and lines. These elements, in themselves, should suffice to evoke a response in the viewer.

In this paper, I argue that the quest for identifying Dionysus' Indian counterpart is a challenging endeavor, one that can only bear fruit when we shift our focus towards understanding Dionysus as a divine force of nature, which manifests in various ways, aligning with the essence conveyed in the Rig Veda verse mentioned earlier. Drawing from Nietzsche's perspective, where he perceives the Dionysian as an inherent force of nature within humanity, it becomes a more plausible hypothesis to establish a connection between Dionysus and India through the lens of Indo-European comparative mythology and philology.

In this paper, I contend that Socrates' four arguments for the soul's immortality fail to provide conclusive proof. Instead, these arguments can be seen as attempts to infer the most plausible explanation. However, a closer examination reveals that Socrates' best explanation relies on a sequence of informal fallacies and ambiguities, ultimately resulting in inconsistencies within his comprehensive argument. These fallacies, ambiguities, and inconsistencies will become evident as we delve into Socrates' four arguments for soul immortality in the Phaedo.

In his work on Gender and Salvation, Jaini delves into the intricacies of Digambara arguments and Śvētāmbara objections regarding the possibility of women attaining moksha. At the heart of this debate lies the contentious issue of attire. Both Jain sects acknowledge that Mahāvīra and his early adherent mendicants practiced nudity. However, their perspectives diverge significantly. For Digambaras, the act of going naked is considered fundamental and indispensable in the pursuit of liberation. According to their beliefs, one cannot achieve moksha without embracing this practice, which is seen as a manifestation of perfection in one of the three jewels of Jainism: right conduct.

In the sixth chapter of her work “Principle,” Anne Conway advances a compelling argument in favor of the soul’s immortality. She posits that the soul, which she defines as an individual's essence, persists through time. It is noteworthy, however, that Conway also asserts elsewhere in her metaphysical discourse that her system does not necessitate the existence of immaterial entities. Consequently, she characterizes the nature of the soul as fundamentally material. This assertion raises a series of intriguing questions and challenges. One commonly held assumption is that the physical body consists of matter, inherently associated with mortality due to its propensity to decay over time. Conversely, another widely accepted notion suggests a clear distinction between the soul and the body. According to this perspective, the soul is typically perceived as immaterial, lacking material substance. Given its immaterial nature, it is commonly believed to possess the attribute of immortality, as immaterial entities are thought not to succumb to the ravages of time. Thus, a perplexing conundrum arises: How can Conway reconcile her concept of a material soul with the expectation of its immortality?