Friday, February 23, 2024

“The Anti-Christ” by Friedrich Nietzsche (translated by R.J. Hollingdale)

This short treatise is Nietzsche basically ripping everything about Christianity. He begins, “Christianity has taken the side of everything weak, base, ill-constituted, it has made an ideal out of opposition to the preservative instincts of strong life; it has depraved the reason even of the intellectually strongest natures by teaching men to feel the supreme values of intellectuality as sinful, as misleading, as temptations…. I call an animal, a species, an individual depraved when it loses its instincts, when it chooses, when it prefers what is harmful to it…. Where the will to power is lacking there is decline.” He continues by ripping into Kantian morality, “Each one of us should devise his own virtue, his own categorical imperative. A people perishes if it mistakes its own duty for the concept of duty in general…. What destroys more quickly than to work, to think, to feel without inner necessity, without a deep personal choice, without joy? as an automaton of ‘duty’? It is virtually a recipe for decadence, even for idiocy.”


Nietzsche contrasts Christianity with Buddhist philosophy, “Buddhism is a hundred times more realistic than Christianity—it has the heritage of a cool and objective posing of problems in its composition, it arrives after a philosophical movement lasting hundreds of years; the concept ‘God’ is already abolished by the time it arrives. Buddhism is the only really positivistic religion history has to show us, even in its epistemology (a strict phenomenalism—), it no longer speaks of ‘the struggle against sin’ but, quite in accordance with actuality, ‘the struggle against suffering’. It already has—and this distinguishes it profoundly from Christianity—the self-deception of moral concepts behind it—it stands, in my language, beyond good and evil…. Prayer is excluded, as is asceticism, no categorical imperative, no compulsion at all…. He demands no struggle against those who think differently; his teaching resists nothing more than it resists the feeling of revengefulness…. In the teaching of the Buddha egoism becomes a duty…. The precondition for Buddhism is a very mild climate, very gentle and liberal customs, no militarism; and that it is the higher and even learned classes in which the movement has its home. The supreme goal is cheerfulness, stillness, absence of desire, and this goal is achieved…. In Christianity the instincts of the subjugated and oppressed come to the foreground: it is the lowest classes which seek their salvation in it. Here the caustic business of sin, self-criticism, conscience-inquisition, is practiced as a power…. Here the highest things are considered unachievable, gifts, ‘grace’…. Hatred of mind, of pride, courage, freedom, libertinage of mind is Christian; hatred of the senses, of the joy of the senses, of joy in general is Christian.”


Science is also opposed to Christianity by Nietzsche, “A religion like Christianity, which is at no point in contact with actuality, which crumbles away as soon as actuality comes into its own at any point whatever, must naturally be a mortal enemy of the ‘wisdom of the world’, that is to say of science…. ‘Faith’ as an imperative is a veto against science.” Nietzsche continues by invoking Genesis, “God had created himself a rival, science makes equal to God—it is all over with priests and gods if man becomes scientific!—Moral: science is the forbidden in itself—it alone is forbidden. Science is the first sin, the germ of all sins, original sin…. Happiness, leisure gives room for thought—all thoughts are bad thoughts…. Man shall not think…. The beginning of the Bible contains the entire philosophy of the priest.—The priest knows only one great danger: that is science—the sound conception of cause and effect. But science flourishes in general only under happy circumstances—one must have a superfluity of time and intellect in order to ‘know’…. ‘Consequently man must be made unhappy’—this has at all times been the logic of the priest.—One will have already guessed what only came into the world therewith, in accordance with this logic—‘sin’…. The concept of guilt and punishment, the entire ‘moral world-order’, was invented in opposition to science—in opposition to the detaching man from the priest…. The concept of guilt and punishment, including the doctrine of ‘grace’, of ‘redemption’, of ‘forgiveness’—lies through and through and without any psychological reality—were invented to destroy the causal sense of man: they are an outrage on the concept cause and effect!”


To that end, Nietzsche extols the virtues of skepticism, “Great intellects are sceptics. Zarathustra is a sceptic. The vigour of a mind, its freedom through strength and superior strength, is proved by scepticism…. A spirit which wants to do great things, which also wills the means for it, is necessarily a sceptic. Freedom from convictions of any kind, the capacity for an unconstrained view, pertains to strength…. The man of faith, the ‘believer’ of every sort is necessarily a dependent man—such as cannot out of himself posit ends at all. The ‘believer’ does not belong to himself, he can be only a means, he has to be used, he needs someone who will use him.”


Finally, Nietzsche pontificates on the natural class divisions amongst men, “The most spiritual human beings, as the strongest, find their happiness where others would find their destruction: in the labyrinth, in severity towards themselves and others, in attempting; their joy lies in self-constraint: with them asceticism becomes nature, need, instinct. They consider the hard task a privilege, to play with vices which overwhelm others recreation…. Knowledge—a form of asceticism.—They are the most venerable kind of human being: this does not exclude their being the most cheerful, the most amiable. They rule not because they want to but because they are.”


Friday, February 16, 2024

“The Hebrew Bible: Daniel” (translated by Robert Alter)

Alter begins his introduction with an intriguing opinion, along with some history, “Daniel is surely the most peculiar book in the Hebrew Bible. It is also clearly the latest…. It is almost certain that the second half of Daniel was written between 167 and 165 B.C.E. because it refers in detail to the persecutions initiated by Antiochus IV Epiphanes and his suppression of the Temple cult.” Alter continues, “Daniel seems less an interpreter of than a decipherer of divine codes…. It is no wonder that both Christians and Jews used the Book of Daniel as their point of departure for intricate calculations about the end of days…. The other unusual feature of the book is that it is written in two languages. The opening is in Hebrew—the first chapter and the four initial verses of chapter 2. At this point, the text switches to Aramaic, the language in which it continues uninterrupted until the end of chapter 7. The rest of the book is in Hebrew…. In style, its Hebrew sections are seriously flawed. Its narrative is primarily a vehicle for laying out tales of miraculous aid that demonstrate God’s power…. In strictly literary terms, it is a book that falls far below what earlier biblical texts, both narrative and Prophetic, would lead us to expect. And yet Daniel is also a book fraught with religious importance for its age and beyond.”


In Daniel 3:25, Alter points out the unique description of a miracle, “I see four men walking unbound within the fire. Although there are from time to time miraculous events in earlier biblical narrative, this late text drastically steps up the supernatural nature of the miracle…. Human figures living in the here-and-now walk about in the intense flames, accompanied by a divine being.” In Daniel 5:24, Alter points to an instance of indirect action from God, which was becoming the norm for later biblical writing, “Then before Him was sent the palm of a hand. This formulation of indirect agency with the passive mode of the verb reflects a growing tendency in the Late Biblical period to avoid attributing anthropomorphic acts directly to God: it is God’s initiative, but the disembodied hand is somehow “sent” from before the divine presence.”


There are more instances of unique writing in the Book of Daniel. In Daniel 8:16, Alter relates, “Gabriel. It is only in this late period that angels are given names.” In Daniel 12:1, Alter notes, “all who are found in the book. The strong scholarly consensus is that this is the book of life. There are some brief hints in earlier biblical literature of such a book kept on high, but here it is made dramatically explicit.” Finally, in Daniel 12:2, Alter explains, “And many of the sleepers in the deep dust shall awake—some for everlasting life and some for disgrace and everlasting shame. This is famously, the first and only clear reference to the resurrection of the dead in the Hebrew Bible…. Bodily resurrection after burial here is accompanied by the idea of reward for the righteous and punishment for the wicked.”


Friday, February 9, 2024

“Spinoza: Life and Legacy” by Johnathan I. Israel

This biography of the philosopher, Baruch Spinoza, checks in at over twelve hundred pages. It has many digressions—about the two seventeenth century Anglo-Dutch wars, disputes amongst the many Protestant sects in Holland, a history of the Sephardim in Europe, as well as potted histories of Descartes and Hobbes, amongst others. All the asides give relevant, if excessive, background into Spinoza’s milieu.


To contemporaries, Spinoza was considered a heretic and an atheist, kicked out of his own synagogue in Amsterdam for his radical beliefs. He believed that all of nature was God. “Except God, no substance can be or be conceived.” Furthermore, he did not believe in free will, but instead a completely necessary consequentialism. “All things which follow from the absolute nature of any of God’s attributes have always had to exist and be infinite…. In nature there is nothing contingent, but all things have been determined from the necessity of the divine nature to exist and produce an effect in a certain way…. The will cannot be called a free cause, but only a necessary one.” Israel expands, “Spinoza is especially concerned to reject all aspects of theological thinking that envisage mankind as a privileged segment of nature…. Hence, an important general consequence of Spinoza’s identifying God with nature is the removal of all conscious intent or purpose from God’s creative power, his sweeping denial of all divine teleology.”


Spinoza broke off from writing his great philosophical treatise, “The Ethics,” because he felt the political situation in the Netherlands demanded an immediate response in the kind of his “Tractatus Theologico-Politicus.” This book was a mix of biblical hermeneutics combined with anti-monarchist politics. Spinoza states, “If, finally, we remember that everybody’s loyalty to the state, like their faith in God, can only be known from their works, that is, from their charity toward their neighbor, it will not be doubted that the best state accords everyone the same liberty to philosophize as we showed that faith likewise allows.” He continues, “It is not the purpose of the state to turn people from rational beings into beasts or automata, but rather to allow their minds and bodies to develop in their own way in security and enjoy the free use of reason…. Therefore the true purpose of the state is in fact freedom…. [The] chief feature of a democratic state is that its excellence is valued much more highly in peace than in war.” Spinoza believed in a overriding social contract amongst citizens of a democratic republic. “No one can rightly obey God if they do not adapt pious observance to the public interest to which everyone is bound, and do not, as a consequence, obey all the decrees of the sovereign power.”


Spinoza believed scripture, whether Christian or Jewish, properly understood, is universal in its teachings. “What is most universally declared in Scripture (whether by prophets, scribes, or Christ) is that God exists, is one, and omnipotent, that he alone should be venerated and cares for all, favouring above others those who venerate him and love their neighbour as themselves, etc.” Spinoza sought to debunk the relevance of all occurrences of miracles in the Bible. “Miracles and ignorance I equate because those who try to erect the existence of God and religion on miracles seek to reveal something obscure by something more obscure which they are completely ignorant of.” On Jewish law, Spinoza opined, “With their state now dissolved, there is no doubt the Jews are no more bound by the Law of Moses than they were before the commencement of their community and state. For while dwelling among other peoples, before the Exodus from Egypt, they possessed no special laws, being bound only by the natural law along with the law of the state in which they were living, so far as it did not conflict with the natural divine law.” He continues by stressing that the Christian Apostles were simply teachers who were trying to convince others through philosophy, “The Apostles always employ arguments, so that they seem to be engaged in a debate rather than prophesying.” On Paul of Tarsus, Spinoza declares, “The long deductions and arguments of Paul, such as in the Epistle to the Romans, were not written on the basis of supernatural revelation. Rather, the Apostles’ modes of discourse and discussion very plainly reveal that they wrote their Epistles not on the basis of divine command and revelation, but simply that of their own natural judgment…. Finally, [Paul] says no one is blessed unless he has the mind of Christ in him (Romans 8:9) whereby undoubtedly one may understand God’s laws as eternal truths.” Spinoza continues, “All Christ’s teaching consists primarily of moral doctrine…. There can be no doubt that many disputes and schisms have arisen because different Apostles constructed religion on different foundations.”


In “The Ethics,” Spinoza describes the good life, “It is the part of a wise man, I say, to restore and refresh himself with moderate and pleasant food and drink, and also pleasant smells, with the beauty of vigorous plants, with decoration, music, games that exercise the body, theatre and all else of this sort which we all can enjoy without causing harm to another…. Such a style of life accords best both with our principles and the common practice…. The greater the joy we are affected with, the higher the perfection to which we ascend, that is the more we participate in the divine nature…. Nothing forbids our pleasure except a grim and sad superstition. For why is it more proper to relieve our hunger and thirst than to rid ourselves of melancholy?” Furthermore, for Spinoza, ethics is in harmony with human nature, rightly reasoned. “Virtue is nothing but acting from the laws of one’s own nature…. [Reason only requires] everyone love himself, seek his own advantage, what is really useful to him, and desire what will really lead men to greater perfection, and finally, that everyone should strive to preserve his own being as far as he can…. We ought to want virtue for its own sake.”


On the foundational basis of morality, Spinoza concludes, “For whether or not the moral teachings themselves receive the form of law, or are legislation from God himself, they are nevertheless divine and salutary, and the good stemming from virtue and love of God will be just as desirable whether we receive it from God as judge, or from the necessity of the divine nature. Nor are the bad things ensuing from evil actions and passions any less fearful because they follow from them necessarily. Thus, whether we do those thing that we do necessarily or contingently, we are still led by hope and fear.” His last words on the good life were, “No life, therefore is a life worth living without understanding, and things are good only insofar as they aid men to enjoy the life of the mind, which is defined by knowledge; while, on the contrary, only those things hindering man from perfecting his reason and leading a rational life can by us be called bad.”


Friday, February 2, 2024

“The Blue Flower” by Penelope Fitzgerald

Fitzgerald’s novel is historical fiction based on the life and loves of the Romantic poet and philosopher, Novalis, whom Fitzgerald refers to by his Christian name, Friedrich (Fritz) von Hardenberg. Fritz’s father was a member of the impecunious aristocracy, who had turned pious late in life, after a religious awakening. “While they were living at Oberweiderstadt, the Hardenbergs did not invite their neighbors, and did not accept invitations, knowing that this might lead to worldliness…. As a member of the nobility, most ways of earning money were forbidden to the Freiherr.”


In college, Fritz fell in with the so-called Jena circle, led by the Schlegels and mentored by Goethe and Schiller, “They were all intelligent, all revolutionaries, but since each of them had a different plan, none of it would come to anything. They talked continually of going to Prussia, to Berlin, but they stayed in Jena…. To the Jena circle Fritz was a kind of phenomenon, a country boy, perhaps still growing, capable in his enthusiasm of breaking things, tall and awkward.” As a poet, he professed, “Politics are the last thing that we need. This at least I learned with the Brethren at Neudietendorf. The state should be one family, bound by love.”


Fritz was apprenticing to become a salt mine inspector, one of the few occupations open to the nobility. On a business trip he fell in love with a twelve-year-old girl, Sophie, on first sight, from across the sitting-room of an old manor home. “I can’t comprehend her, I can’t get the measure of her. I love something that I do not understand. She has got me, but she is not at all sure she wants me.” Fritz was much more confident about his philosophy, “I think, indeed, that women have a better grasp on the whole business of life than we men have. We are morally better than they are, but they can reach perfection, we can’t…. Furthermore, I believe that all women have what Schlegel finds lacking in so many men, a beautiful soul. But so often it is concealed.” The philosophy of Fritz borrowed much from Fichte, the Schlegel brothers, Schelling, and others in his orbit, who had learned idealism from reading Kant and hearing Fichte lecture. Fritz pontificated, “The external world is the world of shadows. It throws its shadows into the kingdom of light…. The universe, after all, is within us. The way leads inwards, always inwards.”


His friends knew Fritz lived life on another plane of reality. Johann Wilhelm Ritter said of him, “Hardenberg could not be judged by any ordinary standards.” Speaking to Caroline Schlegel, he continued, “For him there is no real barrier between the unseen and the seen. The whole of existence dissolves itself into a myth.” The great man himself, Goethe, tried to explain Fritz’s unusual love for the young Sophie to Fritz’s brother, Erasmus, thus, “Rest assured, it is not her understanding that we love in a young girl. We love her beauty, her innocence, her trust in us, her airs and graces, her God knows what—but we don’t love her for her understanding—nor, I am sure, does Hardenberg.”


Fritz, himself, concludes, “We think we know the laws that govern our existence. We get glimpses, perhaps only once or twice in a lifetime, of a totally different system at work behind them…. As things are, we are enemies of the world, and foreigners to this earth. Our grasp of it is a process of estrangement. Through estrangement itself I earn my living from day to day…. This is waking, that is a dream, this belongs to the body, that to the spirit, this belongs to space and distance, that to time and duration. But space spills over into time, as the body into the soul, so that the one cannot be measured without the other. I want to exert myself to find a different kind of measurement.”