Yi Wu

As a painter of the Dutch Golden Age and a pivotal figure in the Northern Renaissance, Vermeer’s oeuvre inaugurated a maritime modernity in the wake of the Protestant Reformation through its odes and elegies to quotidian existence. This essay centers on Vermeer’s masterpiece, Woman Holding a Balance. It scrutinizes and probes the Baroque theater of the soul as depicted by Vermeer through the lens of a post-global, post-colonial Lebenswelt. Grounded in Deleuze’s The Fold, this essay endeavors to furnish a phenomenological and genealogical hermeneutic for Vermeer’s interior scenes. It does so by dissecting Vermeer’s theater of silence, his intrinsic use of light, the female figure behind the fabric, the politics of still life, and the theology and interplay of color. In so doing, this essay aspires to unearth the dialectical, oscillating utopian potential embedded within Vermeer’s imagery.

One of the harder lessons offered by history is that only the first half of the revolution seems worth carrying out. This study examines how, contra Christianity, which spells out the fate of revolution in its entirety, Gnosticism stands as a symbol for revolution arrested and immortalized in its most radical phase. It shows that Gnosticism is a revolution that structurally renounces the prospect of phenomenal victory in exchange for the eternal preservation and constant renewal of its revolutionary energy. I do so by examining how, rejecting worldly victory, the critical spirit of Gnosticism seeks its minimal and sole embodiment in the individual (the individuated, the indivisible, the residue). I argue that, by building the court of radical inwardness as its theater for enacting what I call the “politics of world loss,” Gnosticism invents the noumenal as that impossible space for enacting the quintessentially phenomenal, i.e., the political.

ABSTRACT Artworks of realism have been the chief target continuously employed by critics to perpetuate a traditional view of art as mere imitation. In this article, I argue for a way to understand artworks of realism based on a suspension of the classical distinction between mimesis (understood as imitation) and poiesis (understood as making, fabrication or production). By examining the perception model (the case of the trompe-l’œil of fifth-century Greek and Renaissance European paintings) and the poiesis of mechanically reproduced art (the case of the photograph), I argue that (1) contrary to the traditional view, an artwork of realism does not represent what is ordinarily called “reality” by imitating it; (2) in what may seem a representation of the world an artwork of realism actually creates something from scratch, making neither an ontological claim to become and to replace the object in question nor an artistic claim to copy after the object; and (3) despite its apparent achievement of resembling the objects in the world, an artwork of realism should be judged by itself as well as by itself as embodiment of conditions of seeing and of encountering, inhabiting, and interpreting the visible at a certain historical juncture.

In The Origins of Totalitarianism, Hannah Arendt diagnosed three symptoms for the post-revolutionary, post-Enlightenment age ending in totalitarianism: 1) the obliteration of the possibility for action, i.e. for freedom; 2) the destruction of experience; and 3) the annihilation of the meaning of death. This essay tries to draw out what such Zeitdiagnose implies. I argue that for Arendt, it is not only the genuinely political that suffers irredeemably at the political as well as the societal levels of totalitarianism, but as an internal correlate, the genuinely historical as well. By analyzing how the shapes of the historical metamorphosed for Arendt from Greco-Roman antiquity to Christianity, through Kant, Hegel, Marx and Nietzsche, I want to show that 1) the political modernism of Hannah Arendt carries within it a “historical modernism” and 2) such historical modernism re-embeds the present age within the Age of History by virtue of a critical distancing and a tiger’s leap into the past.

The Sea as Mirror traces the pressing and repressed material and symbolic presence of the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean from Plato to Heidegger. To do so, Wu Yi employs the maritime as a lens to understand the drive of philosophy as both a response to and moment within the impetus of Western colonization. Yi examines how philosophy has again and again constructed itself as a genre in opposition to the movement of deterritorialization and fluidity of mimesis. She does so via the method (meta, “after” + hodos, “way, journey”) of a series of essayings (in the original sense of trial, measure, attempt) across a geopolitical topography of discourses. These include philosophical texts drawn from a constellation of historical topoi at the critical moments of their encounter with the maritime: Plato and Euripedes’s work from fifth-century Athens; Augustus and Plautus’s writings from republican and early imperial Rome; Shakespeare’s creations from Elizabethan England; Kant and Rousseau’s texts from enlightenment continental Europe; and the thinking of Husserl and Heidegger from interwar Germany of the twentieth century. For each historical topos, Yi juxtaposes different representations of and responses to the maritime through the reading of a philosophical text vis-à-vis the reading of a literary text. In so doing, she lays bare the deep political and moral ambiguity attributed to the ocean in Western philosophical and literary imaginaries.

Contrary to its self-proclamation, philosophy started not with wonder, but with time thrown out of joint. It started when the past has become a problem. Such was the historical situation facing Athens when Plato composed his Socratic dialogues. For the philosopher of fifth century BCE, both the immediate past and the past as the Homeric tradition handed down to the citizens had been turned into problematicity itself. In this essay, I will examine the use of philosophy as memory theatre in Plato's Republic. I shall do so by interpreting Book X of the Republic as Plato's “odyssey” and suggest that such Platonic odyssey amounts to an attempt to re-inherit the collapsed spatial and temporal order of the fallen Athenian maritime empire. In my reading, the Odysseus in the Myth of Er comes forth for Plato as the exemplary Soldier-Citizen-Philosopher who must steer between the Scylla of ossified political principles and the whirling nihilism of devalued historical values, personified by Charybdis. I shall further suggest that Plato’s memory theatre also constitutes a device of amnesia and forgetting. The post-Iliadic Odysseus must drink of forgetfulness from the river Lethe, so that the revenant soldier, Er, and those who inherited the broken historical present during and after the Peloponnesian War, would be enabled to remember in a particular way. Such remembrance, I shall conclude, may be what Plato means by philosophy, a memory theatre of psychic regulation and moral economy that sets itself decidedly apart from earlier tragic and comic catharsis.

The Copernican Revolution had meant for modern Europe surer navigation, bolder voyages and wilder discoveries. With the declaration of independence of America in 1781 and the publication of The Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant in the same year, the age of Enlightenment defined itself as an age of coming of age and of daring to know. This essay tries to draw out the peculiar enlightenment ethos of a youth against youth through Kant’s depiction of the voyage of human reason in the First Critique. It will do so by examining the four-fold sense of objects, the island of truth surrounded by illusion, amphibolic insularity, the mirror of schema and the “No Further!” of the Pillars of Hercules. Interrogating the dual sense of “limit” as both infinitizing, transgressively de-territorializing and yet at the same time self-delimiting, self-critiquingly re-territorializing, this essay argues for a hermeneutic vantage point to comprehend Kant as the unwilling mariner who by way of the transcendental as-if attempted to gain a certain spectatorship, a particular possibility of seeing - at a shore already and increasingly lost to the European and global humanity of centuries to come.

Representations of historicism as the loss of meaning in history and critiques of historicism as the critique of such a loss had been pervasive since late nineteenth century till the Second World War. Among historicism’s most powerful and representative critics were the young Nietzsche and Benjamin in his Parisian exile. This essay seeks to trace from Nietzsche to Benjamin an unbroken yet growing line of critique—of historicism as the “sickness of time” from which modernity suffers, and from which it has been trying to recover. Two attempts at such a recovery will be examined and juxtaposed: The Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life and Theses on the Philosophy of History. By thus situating both historicism and its critiques within the desires and anxieties of modernity, this essay tries to delineate and to understand the peculiarly modernist shapes assumed by the historical and its discontents.

This essay investigates the rôle of the North Atlantic as a silent actant in the dramatic economy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It takes the series of actions of Hamlet’s deportation by sea, his nocturnal transformation on board and his surprise return with the pirate ship as the axis around which the play turns. It examines the movement of deterritorialization and mimesis in the constitution of sovereignty by the ceaseless transference of piracy and inter-imperial rivalries and passages. Interpreting Hamlet as being not just a play of nothingness and nihilism, born of and residing in the interstice of disjointed historical time, this essay argues that Hamlet is a play that inherits and inhabits the cranny of fractured historical space from Elizabethan to Jacobean England when the English isle became what Carl Schmitt called the “agency of the spatial turn to a new nomos of the earth.” The old nomos of the earth, terra firma in the Greco-Roman and feudal senses, was challenged by the new freedom of the sea which demanded a separate and distinct global order. This essay poses the question whether the dramatic economy of Hamlet as split by and revolving around the physical presence and symbolic charges of the North Atlantic in fact constitutes the irrhythm and mis-punctuation of this spatial turn toward a maritime modernity.

Contrary to its self-proclamation, philosophy started not with wonder, but with time thrown out of joint. It started when the past has become a problem. Such was the historical situation facing Athens when Plato composed his Socratic dialogues. For the philosopher of fifth century BCE, both the immediate past and the past as the Homeric tradition handed down to the citizens had been turned into problematicity itself. In this essay, I will examine the use of philosophy as memory theatre in Plato's Republic. I shall do so by interpreting Book X of the Republic as Plato's “odyssey” and suggest that such Platonic odyssey amounts to an attempt to re-inherit the collapsed spatial and temporal order of the fallen Athenian maritime empire. In my reading, the Odysseus in the Myth of Er comes forth for Plato as the exemplary Soldier-Citizen-Philosopher who must steer between the Scylla of ossified political principles and the whirling nihilism of devalued historical values, personified by Charybdis. I shall further suggest that Plato’s memory theatre also constitutes a device of amnesia and forgetting. The post-Iliadic Odysseus must drink of forgetfulness from the river Lethe, so that the revenant soldier, Er, and those who inherited the broken historical present during and after the Peloponnesian War, would be enabled to remember in a particular way. Such remembrance, I shall conclude, may be what Plato means by philosophy, a memory theatre of psychic regulation and moral economy that sets itself decidedly apart from earlier tragic and comic catharsis.