Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘philosophy (short)’ Category

Reflections: On Socrates’ Apologies and agoristic philosophy

Posted in books, on agoristic philosophy, on Aristotle, on courage, on ethics, on Nicomachean Ethics, on Plato, on Socrates, on the Apology, on Xenophon, philosophy (short), tagged , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2007| Leave a Comment »

For those of us who find the life of Socrates to be a truly philosophical life, perhaps THE model of the philosophical life, some aspects of his two Apologies (for I take Xenophon’s Apology as seriously as Plato’s) truly stand out.

First, these apologies are intended as a defense, a juridical defense of a way of life which physically endangers he who holds fast to its foundations. If this is so, then the first striking aspect of Socratism nowadays lies in that it is very rare to have an academic philosopher actually have to engage in such a public defense. This is odd and puzzling. Perhaps it is because philosophy has opened a space for itself among our democratic societies. But most likely, in doing so, philosophy has lost its most original and powerful reality. To put it boldly, one could even say that philosophy has actually retreated although it thinks itself to be at the very forefront.

Second, the Apologies show something that is altogether striking. Socrates’ audience, once he begins his voyage towards learning of his own wisdom which lies in knowing that he does not know, is not an academic audience. My life within academic circles has allowed me to see argumentation amongst academicians many a time. But herein lies what is striking, Socrates sought in the Apology as his interlocutors others, namely, artisans, poets, and politicians. It is these who find themselves angered by Socrates’ words and actions. It is they who take him to court. In this respect one could say that Socratic philosophy is essentially agoristic, it has its place primarily in the agora, the public space par excellence. Nowadays academic philosophy has lost sight of this and therefore has lost sight of the political foundations of Socrates’ life (Heidegger specially so). In this respect, if one has worked outside academia, it is not surprising to find the very real anger by many towards the “uselessness” of the philosophical life. Little in academic circles prepares one for such anger. Much can and has to be done to redress this.

It is little wonder that in classical political philosophy the civic virtue of courage is mentioned repeatedly. It is mentioned in order to moderate it via the courage of reflection. Little is heard of such topics today; for instance, Aristotle’s books on the virtues within both of his Ethics are quickly passed over as irrelevant to our condition. This amounts to a kind of unreflective surrender. In this same vein, little is said about rhetoric itself, the public political art par excellence. As a matter of fact, this is precisely why Xenophon is no longer taken seriously in academic circles themselves! (How many philosophers actually are such that excellent generals write about them?)

Agoristic philosophy is the foundation of Socratic political philosophy. Actually, agoristic philosophy is the foundation of all serious philosophy (both beyond the seriousness of the spoudaios and the seriousness of the modern intellectual.)

Read Full Post »

Reflections: Socrates and the self-sufficient life

Posted in on politics, on Socrates, philosophy (short), tagged , , , , , , , on January 24, 2006| Leave a Comment »

One of the exciting and relevant reasons for turning to the Greeks is that in the work of some Greek philosophers —-specially that of Plato—- one finds what are perhaps the best, the deepest, and the most lively discussions on the tensions between philosophy and art as conflicting ways of life. In dialogues such as the Symposium, the debate reaches a real climax. There Socrates and Aristophanes battle it out. The basis for their discrepancy in part revolves around the nature of desire and the possibility of human self-sufficiency and happiness.

This is not to say that in modern times one does not find authors who see the importance of touching on such a debate. One indeed finds it particularly in the work of Nietzsche who moves permanently between both camps. Nietzsche the philosopher, Nietzsche the artist; as if unable to decide, as if as moderns we can no longer decide. He seems, in a sense, weary of both activates as we have come to understand them. But of course, Nietzsche touches on the debate in a very different way than Plato. In contrast to Nietzsche’s penetrating psychological fragments on the artist —-arrived at in the solitude of an introspective stance—– the beautifully artistic and dramatic form of a Platonic work such as the Symposium lies in that the dialogue makes the discussion almost alive and politically situated.

Moreover, Nietzsche stands as the primary source of a radical critique which has as its direct aim Socrates and his tradition. This is evident early on in his The Birth of Tragedy in which Socratic rationalism is set up against Greek tragedy which, by the end of the book, is assured its place as the unquestionable winner of the debate. Tragedy reaches the summit of expressive art. However, in tragedy self-sufficiency remains an impossibility because the tragic is by nature akin to the incomplete, to the flawed. Socrates, in contrast, teaches the possibility of self-sufficiency as the highest form of life.

But before pointing out one of the fundamental tensions between Platonic philosophy and art, a brief contextualization. Postmodernism, which began in architecture and therefore is closely linked to art, is the name of a critical stance towards modernity. It is set dead against the modern notion of enlightened reason which seeks to bring everything to the presence of a unequivocal and unimpaired lighting. Some of its proponents go so far as to interpret the work of authors such as Heidegger and Nietzsche in a way that widens the challenge not only to modernity, but rather to the whole of the Western tradition. In this respect they see crucial failings in the very origins of the Western tradition; a tradition whose foundations many find in the works of Plato, specially in his Republic. They emphasize, in this respect, his alleged desire to banish poetry and seek a rational understanding of the whole once we are liberated from the cave.

As the years go by, such an interpretation of Platonic philosophy seems to me less legitimate, less plausible and less interesting. At least three powerful reasons for this position stand out clearly to me now. On the one hand, there is here a confusion between modern reason and the ancient ideal of rationality. Secondly, such proposals are quite blind to the artistic merit of the dramatic form of Platonic philosophy itself which reaches us in the form of carefully, artistically created, dialogues. And finally, such overwhelming critiques fail to recognize the fact that it is Socrates who first tries to understand the political nature of us as human beings living in society. For some, specially in the Straussian tradition, Socrates’ concern is in the first instance with human affairs, not transcendental ideas.

What is the relevance of this debate to contemporary artists? HUGE. On the one hand, they may benefit from reading authors such as Michel Foucault who takes up seriously Nietzsche’s discussions on art. For him the only means of subverting this all-encompassing rationalistic project is life made artistic. The aesthetic configuration of oneself is the sole means of protest in an increasingly alienating world of micropowers. Foucault’s work adamantly defends the possibility of what he calls an “aesthetic of existence”. As he puts it: “the principle work of art one has to take care of , the main area to which one has to apply aesthetic values is oneself, one’s life, one’s existence. “ (p. 245; see also Nietzsche TGS #290) If reason no longer can guide our lives, art must lead the way. But on the other hand, contemporary artists might become more aware of the type of art which they are led to produce in this attempt to seek countermeasures by contrasting this stance with Socratic views of art and, in general, the role of desire in human affairs.

Let me just say briefly that, as far as I can see, the uniting thread which both camps address differently is the topic of “desire”. For the artist desire is the beginning and the end. The beginning for it is that which grants motion to the work, the end because the work expresses desire in a sublimated fashion. The Socratic philosopher, in particular, also begins with desire, but his/her erotic desire reaches out to another very different end. The end is erotic self-sufficiency. Among many other things, Socrates continuously asks whether a desire that has no limit to its gratification can in the end make a person fully human. As against Nietzsche, and the postmodernist defense of tragedy, Socrates defends the possibility of a certain happiness in philosophical excellence.

Xenophon –—who is now little read— captures dramatically this sense of Socratic self-sufficiency in a passage in which Socrates, as is frequently the case, defends himself against an attack which he does not initiate. This dialogical interchange between Antiphon and Socrates might in a sense make us more aware of the nature of desire and its puzzling presence in our human lives. Xenophon reports this conversation went like this:

“It is worthwhile in this regard also not to omit his conversations that he had with Antiphon the sophist. For Antiphon, wishing to draw his close companions away from him, once approached Socrates when they were present and said the following.

“Socrates, I, for my part, thought that those who philosophize should become happier. But you, in my opinion, have reaped from philosophy just the opposite. You live, at any rate, a way of life such as no slave would abide from a master. You eat and drink the poorest food and drink, you wear a cloak that is not only poor but the same one during summer and winter, and you are continuously without shoes or tunic.”

“Moreover, you do not take in wealth —-a thing that both delights in its acquisition and makes those who possess it live more freely and pleasantly. If, accordingly, you too dispose your companions as do teachers of other work as well, who show their students to be their imitators, you should hold that you are a teacher of unhappiness.”  And Socrates replied to this:

“In my opinion, Antiphon, you have supposed me to live so painfully that I am persuaded you would rather die than choose to live as I do. Come now, let us examine what you have perceived to be hard in my life.

“ Is it that those who accept money are under necessity to produce what they are paid for, but that by not receiving it I am in no necessity to converse with whomever I do not wish? Or do you deem my way of life poor in the belief that  I eat less healthy things than you, or things that provide less strength? Or is it that my regimen  is harder to procure than yours because it is more rare and costly? Or that what you furnish yourself is more pleasant for you than what I furnish myself is for me? Don’t you know that the one who eats most pleasantly has the least need of relish, and the one who drinks most pleasantly least desires drink that is not at hand?

“Regarding cloaks, you know that those who change them do so for reasons of cold and heat , and that they put on shoes so that they will not be prevented from walking due to what pains their feet. Now then, have you ever perceived me more than another remaining inside because of the cold, fighting with someone over a spot in the shade because of the heat or not going wherever I wish because of pain in my feet?

Don’t you know that when those bodies are naturally weakest practice they become  stronger at what they practice and more easily bear it than the strongest who does not practice? And don’t you think that, by always practices patient endurance of the things that  chance to befall my body, I bear all things more easily  than you who does not practice?

“Do you think that anything is more responsible for my not being enslaved to stomach or sleep or lust  than that I have other things more pleasant than these that delight not only in their use but also by providing hopes that they will benefit always? Moreover, this at any rate you know; that those who do not think that they are doing well do not experience delight, but those who believe that they are nobly progressing, either in farming or seafaring or whatever else they chance to be working at, are delighted on the grounds that they are doing well.

Then, do you think that the pleasure from all these things  is as great as that from believing that one is becoming better and acquiring better friends? I, for my part,  spend my life holding these things. And if indeed it should be necessary to benefit friends or city, is there more leisure to attend to them in my present way of life or in the one that you deem blessed? And who would go on a campaign more easily, a person unable to live without a costly way of life, or one for whom what is at hand is enough? And who would surrender more quickly to a siege, the person needing what is hardest to find, or the one who has enough when he makes use of what is easiest to abstain?

“You seem, Antiphon, like one who thinks that happiness is luxury and extravagance. But I, for my part, hold that to need nothing is divine (theios), that to need as little as possible is nearest to the divine, and what is divine is best, and that what is nearest to the divine is nearest to what is best.” (Memorabilia I 6, Xenophon, Translated by Amy L. Bonnette; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994)

Interpreting these words is no easy matter. But I truly believe Van Gogh also sought a similar type of self-sufficiency as well. His poverty is very much akin to Socrates’. But what Van Gogh affirmed through his own decisions and desiring activity was quite other than what Socrates held to be the highest good available to humans. One could conclude by saying: seeking to avoid the tension between philosophy and art might leave each of the parties safer to themselves, but safety is not primarily what philosophers or artists are all about.

Read Full Post »

Reflections: Socrates on love-charms and magic spells

Posted in on eros, on ethics, on Socrates, on Xenophon, philosophy (short) on January 18, 2006| Leave a Comment »

Socrates on love-charms and magic spells

Xenophon reports many intriguing conversations Socrates had with fellow Athenians and foreigners. One of these was held with an extremely beautiful young woman called Theodote who, given her beauty, frequently posed for painters and artists. The very end of their conversation reads like this:

“How, then,” she said. ‘would I be able to induce hunger in someone for what I have?”

“By Zeus,” he said Socrates, ‘if, first, you neither approach nor offer any reminder to those who are satiated until they stop being full and are in need again. Then, if you offer reminders to those who are in need by means of the most decorous intimacy possible and by visibly wishing to gratify, yet fleeing —until they are most in need. For it makes a big difference to give the same gifts at that point, rather than before they desire them.”

And Theodote said, “Why then, Socrates, don’t you become my fellow hunter of friends?”

“If, by Zeus,” he said, “you persuade me.”

“How, then, might I persuade you?” she said.

“You yourself will seek this out and will contrive it,” he said, “if you have some need of me.”

“Then visit me often,” she said.

And Socrates, joking about his own lack of busyness, said, “But Theodote, it is  not very easy for me to find leisure, for in fact many affairs both private and public deprive me of leisure. And I also have female friends who will not allow me to leave them day or night, since they are learning love charms and incantations from me.”

“Do you understand these things, as well, Socrates?” she said.

“Well,” he said,” why do you think Apollodorus here and Antisthenes are never absent from me? And why do you think Cebes and Simmias are present from Thebes? Know well that this hasn’t happened without many love charms, incantations and spells.”

“Then lend me the spell,” she said, “ so that I might draw it first against you.”

“But, by Zeus,” he said, “ I myself do not wish to be drawn to you —but that you come to me.”

“Then I will go to you,” she said. “Only receive me.”

“But I will receive you,” he said, “unless some female dearer than you is inside.”

Xenophon Memorabilia III, 11 (Translation by Amy L. Bonnette, (Ithaca: Cornell University, 1994)

No wonder ugly Socrates ——who knew he knew nothing—– also knew he only knew much about only ONE specific topic. That topic was eros. In this respect he is not far from artists, who also claim to know much about our erotic life.

Read Full Post »

Reflections: On radical linearism; some working ideas

Posted in art, line-art, on liberal education, on myself, philosophy (short), radical linearism, tagged , , , , , , , on March 12, 2005| 3 Comments »

(Note: JUST IN CASE, FOR AN IDENTICAL PRESENTATION WHICH INCLUDES SOME PHOTOS, PLEASE SEE THE FOLLOWING: link )

On Radical Linearism.

Those of you who have seen my simple drawings have done me great good. Their simplicity is shocking, specially to me. I mean, are they really complete works? Surely I must be kidding, right? Surely they are just simple nice sketches which will be reworked finally to really produce a painting. Surely it might even seem a bit arrogant to frame such few lines and pretend they are a finished works. In a sense this is true, but in another quite false. This is why I write this journal; to clarify to myself and to some friends what might lie behind the appearance and decision to draw such lines. In this sense, this journal continues the ideas present in my previous Journal “Lines and Beauty” [link] . In it, I briefly spoke about my love of lines.

So I guess first one must say that these lines have risen out of great love of some painters in particular. They can only be understood in reference to Kandinsky, Klee, Mondrian, and Miró. I will provide examples of the first two to see what I mean:

1. Klee (drawings and paintings)

2. Kandinsky (drawings and paintings)

If it were not for my contact with these painters, I doubt I would have ever drawn what I have. This is so because “abstract impressionism” led me on a truly anti-representationalist path. As Klee wrote: “Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible.” But these drawings are much more radical in their nature, hence the name “Radical Linearism”.

Have you ever stayed up late wondering about what your art shows? Have you ever had the need to express to yourself in words what lies behind your artistic decisions? Have you ever wondered after you submit here at DA, what is it you are doing? Well if you have felt this, then you will be open to this journal. But all this requires a bit of courage and the passage of time. Courage, because it is hard to defend a certain simplicity in our modern complex, technologically-oriented, world. And the passage of time, for I doubt a few years ago I could have even thought about writing this. Perhaps the preparation for my PhD thesis has allowed me to understand myself a bit more. And finally, there is always recourse to great artists and thinkers. As Da Vinci is said to have written:

“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication”
[link]

Obviously this cannot mean that Da Vinci was a simpleton! Simplicity is far from superficiality. Quite the contrary, simplicity may sometimes provide a radical critique of our supposed complexity; a complexity which may truly be hiding us from ourselves. In this sense, this journal is very Socratic ——remember Socrates preferred, for the most part, to go about without shoes— because it asks of us to try to know ourselves. Perhaps more journals such as these at DA can help us better understand ourselves as artists.

To the problem. You see, the problem with these drawings I did in the period 2000-2003 —–after having drawn for many years much more complex figures and paintings— is clearly that they seem to be the result of a childish inability to develop one’s ideas so as to produce a real complete work. To see what I mean just take a look at some of these radical linear drawings. You will see and feel what I mean:

“Human being”

“Linear Woman”

“Minimalist landscape”

“Peasant “

“Proyección”

“Linear Woman”

“Conversation over water”

“Mujer cuadriculada”

“Bird”

“Earth-tree-bird-moon”

“Peace towers 9/11”

“Beating Landscape”

“Embarked”

“Reading”

“Beso”

(and many others found in my Gallery; and still others which I have not submitted.)

The feeling some deviant commentators have had can be summarized as follows: “Really beautiful drawings and yet there is something lacking in them, a certain depth. They are cute and nice, but inconclusive. Surely there will come a point when you will have time to work on them.” So much have I heard this, that I even doubted whether to submit them at all, not to mention frame them as they are!

The defense. First of all I must repeat that, contrary to what one might believe, these drawings were done between 2000-2003, so that they belong to a much later date in my artistic production. Second, they arose suddenly as if of themselves. I had drawn extensively before, but these later drawings were quite unique and challenging. They seemed absolutely simple and yet I found myself with no desire whatsoever to modify them much! It is as if they told me not to modify them much.

To understand the issue at hand I must let you see for yourselves previous paintings and drawings which show the complexity which existed before the arrival of these radical lines:

1. Anthropomorphosis (1989-90) (A complex painting)

2. Temporality (A complex sketch from 1988)
:thumb13086058:

3. My house (A complex sketch from 1993)

4. Rezo (A complex drawing from 1988)

So you see, now you might understand why these later drawings puzzled me so much. And what is still worse is that previously I HAD IN FACT used some older drawings to create much more complex paintings. Such is the case of

1. “Coupling”

whose sketch was done in 1987

2. “Soaring Sunset”.

whose sketch was done in 1987 as well

This is very paradoxical to me. I had already created complex paintings from similar drawings when I was much younger. These paintings provided possible solutions for the immature sketches to try to become more complete works. The solution in “Coupling” seems to create much beauty, but makes the lines fall into the background almost completely. The solution with “Soaring sunset” —-–to expand the lines and color them— keeps the value of the lines, but requires the use of color.

And then I asked, what if these radical linear drawings were ends-in-themselves? What would that mean? How could I make myself clearer about this with multiple commentators arguing that these “nice” and “cute” little sketches were just sketches? I told myself that the only solution I could afford to accept was that of making them much larger then they are, simply widening the lines so that they would not seem as fragile as they do. But aside from that, no color or transformation in the lines. I started to worry I was loosing it. And then came DA, and luckily I had to think about these drawings thanks to the comments by several kind deviants to whom I am grateful.

Thinking it through, I came up with the idea of “Radical Linearism”; first as a nice title, but slowly as a more serious possibility for self-understanding. The part on “Linearism” is too obvious to even comment. But why is it radical and not merely another form of abstractionism? Because the emphasis lies in the lines themselves; and, as far as possible, in the least amount of lines that one can use to express oneself with regards to any given topic or subject.

And so AT LAST, the following 10 points are what I think might lie behind the simplicity of these lines. (Please check out my previous journals so you do not believe this is simply a crazy fluke.)

Radical Linearism: some working ideas

1. The simplicity of these lines stands as a powerful critique of modern complexity. Busying ourselves at all times, we may have truly lost ourselves. These lines therefore stand as a kind of therapy against complexity; they remind one of the need to stop and reconsider. In this sense, they defend another kind of complexity.

2. Their simplicity is fueled by an economic critique. Their economy of form and color is set up in contrast to a society which enjoys consuming endlessly (consuming even the greatest of art works). Their economy of means is set up against a world of radical economic inequalities. They put forward the possibility of having less as condition for creating more.

3. The simplicity of these lines points directly to our mortality. Mathematically, a line is made up of points; but a point –according to Euclid— is “that which has no part” [link] . They in fact arose soon after I was diagnosed with a severe illness which made it impossible for me to walk for over a year, and also made it quite difficult to draw. It hurt to draw, hence the need for few lines. Is this why they seem to have a certain therapeutic effect? Is their simplicity to be understood in part because, when one comes in touch with one’s mortality, one gets rid of the annoying superficial complexity of many irrelevant things?

4. Their simplicity opens them as true possibilities. They can be seen as the genetic structure for further projects; a kind of DNA which can generate multiple possibilities. They could allow, as sketches do, to be reworked in different directions under differing conditions. (Isn’t the DNA helix quite linear; not to mention the way we represent molecular bonds?). And yet they are completely finished unto themselves.

5. The simplicity of these lines has a direct connection to Primitivism. They recall the symbolism of lines which appeared in caves as some of the first expressions of our expressive possibilities as distinctly human.

[link]

6. Their simplicity can be seen as spiritual. They can be regarded both as a reduction towards the essentials of a given object, and simultaneously as an ascent to a certain kind of “Purification”. Forgive me, but here I must have recourse to truly great painters. As Klee wrote:

“Some will not recognize the truthfulness of my mirror. Let them remember that I am not here to reflect the surface… but must penetrate inside. My mirror probes down to the heart. I write words on the forehead and around the corners of the mouth. My human faces are truer than the real ones.” [link]

Or as Kandinsky famously wrote: “The contact of the acute angle of a triangle with a circle is no less powerful in effect than that of the finger of God with the finger of Adam in Michelangelo’s’ painting.” (p. 77 Kandinsky)

7. The simplicity of these lines opens us to the world in a radically new way. The minimalist group here in DA — ~minimalism —- provides wonderful examples of what this might mean. (I myself have tried to provide photographs in this direction in my gallery.) Your eye becomes unencumbered in an age in which complex images assault us at every instant.

8. Their simplicity has a particular historical and personal context as the Colombian citizen that I am. They stand as a contrasting balance to our famous and magnanimous Colombian painter and sculptor Fernando Botero and his well-known over-sizing:

9. The simplicity of these lines invites the spectator to become an engaged and activate participant who —if she/he is open enough— must be truly puzzled by their very simplicity: As I wrote in my previous journal on lines: “One tends to think that lines reduce. But lines actually make you produce an image that is nowhere to be found in the world. Lines make you activate your seeing and your thinking. For lines ask to be completed by you, the perceiver. At first you do not see it, so you must look closer and engage what seeing cannot. They are deceptive because they seem too childish to hide any depth. But if you can see some depth in them, then —just maybe—- you really surprise yourself and therefore start to see lines all around you in the world. Of course, I rarely succeed in doing this, but I have tried hard for several years.” These simple lines may feed us by reactivating our imagination in an age in which imagination has become choked. And finally,

10. Their simplicity —allow me to venture into the area of understanding I have dedicated my last 18 years to— might even be seen as part of the tendency by multiple philosophers (Heidegger, Wittgenstein, Taylor) to criticize the Cartesian model of reality. In particular one might think of the profoundly influential Cartesian model of the “x-y grid” which has mapped our modern space and psyche. Think, for instance, of how odd our modern maps are when compared to their medieval counterparts. The simplicity of these lines does not seek to control space, but rather to liberate it to its multiple possibilities.

Conclusion

So, in the end, the question which “Radical Linearism” might be said to ask is this: why exactly can’t simple lines be just simply lines? . This journal has been but a humble attempt to answer it.

Read Full Post »

Reflections: Aristotle on courage

Posted in books, on Aristotle, on courage, on liberal education, on Nicomachean Ethics, on politics, on Socrates, philosophy (short), tagged , , , , , , , , , , on April 15, 1996| Leave a Comment »

In order to try to better understand the different ways in which the moral virtues are exhibited and understood, on the one hand, by the person pursuing the theoretical life, and on the other, by the one who seeks the practical life, I propose to briefly look at the specific moral virtue of courage as understood by Aristotle.

A) Practical Courage and Its Complexities

In a lengthy section of Book III, Aristotle lays out his basic tenets regarding courage. The courageous, in order to truly exhibit her virtue, must know what she is doing, choose it for its own sake, and do so from a fixed and permanent disposition (1105b33). Moreover, her choosing involves aiming at the mean lying between rashness and cowardice as determined rationally by the prudent man (1107a1).

Practically speaking, the truly courageous are those who face the greatest terrors that humans can face, those of the battlefield where the dangers are “greatest and most glorious” (1115a30). City-states honour their dead; presumably then we would expect Aristotle to base the choosing of courageous actions as the means to the, more important, survival of the community by safeguarding the conditions for the common good. But Aristotle wants instead to investigate the viability of choosing the moral life for ITS own sake, not for anything external to it (only later to be considered under the banner of justice). This is the reason why for Aristotle civic courage, though the most akin to moral courage, is not quite it. The civically courageous yearns to receive something in return for what she knows involves the greatest of self-sacrifices, death. What moves her to act is truly something outside the action itself, namely the honour bestowed on those who are remembered as martyrs of the community. Now, if the greatest courage involves death in the battlefield, and such actions cannot be grounded on one’s own love of one’s country, then one is puzzled and led to ask, what precisely is the courageous rationally choosing, in choosing to die for its own sake?

According to Aristotle, having negatively characterized what courage is not, it should not be difficult to grasp what courage actually is (1117b22). But, if our target is that of happiness, at the core of which lie the moral virtues in a complete life (1101a16), and which is pleasant in itself because virtuous actions are pleasant in themselves (1199a14), it looks as though courage as virtue stands quite at odds with such a goal.

Aristotle tells us that the pleasurable in courage lies in the end obtained, just as boxers who receive punches, but in the end gain glory (if they win). So, and if the analogy holds, the courageous human will endure death and wounds “because it is a fine thing OR because it is a disgrace not to” (1117b8). (The ‘or’ revealing the tension between choosing it for its own sake, or for something else).

In the case of the happy human the conflict reaches its peak for his life is pleasurable and supremely worth living; “he will be distressed at the thought of death” (1117b10). However, as morally virtuous, she will choose, and more bravely than any other, to give up his life “because in preference to these blessings he chooses a gallant end in war” (1117b14)

B) Contemplation and courage

In Book X, *6, Aristotle reminds us that happiness involves activity chosen for its own sake; in it nothing is required beyond the exercise of the activity. (1176b9). Strikingly, it seems he still maintains that happiness consists in activities in accordance with virtue (1177a9, reminding us of 1098a16 in BK. I).

Chapter *7 therefore is quite illuminating in that it points to a reconsideration of the possibility of human happiness through the activity of contemplation; the “highest virtue” in us corresponding to the best in us (1177a12). Not only is this activity the most continuous, the most perfect and self-sufficient, one seeking no end beyond itself, but that which is most akin to the divine. The gods are the supremely happy beings, and we ought therefore to aim, not simply at living according to mortal thoughts, but instead, “so far as in us lies, to put on immortality” (1177b33).

Herein lies “the perfect happiness of man” (1177b33), not simply the secondary kind of “happiness” associated to the actions of the morally minded human. Politics and warfare (courage being as central virtue to both), lack the necessary leisure (1177b9) and are chosen for something external to themselves (1177b16). Moreover, all the virtues cataloged by the morally minded, are unworthy of the gods (1178b15), who instead are dearest to those engaging in the contemplative life (1179a28).

Given all this, in the case of a courage demanding situation, how will the contemplative human act? Will he run away leaving his friends and the city which is worthy of defending? Will he not seek to preserve himself instead?

Although the contemplative human is the most self-sufficient, he can practice contemplation by himself, Aristotle is quick to point out that “he does it better with the help of fellow-workers” (1177a33). Besides, like the moral human, the contemplative is in need of external necessities such as that of a healthy body (1178b31), and friends (1170b12). But in excess these can even become a hindrance (1178ba). Aristotle quotes both the man of practical affairs (Solon) and the man of wisdom (Anaxagoras) as agreeing on the  limited importance of such external accessories. The happy human might turn out to be “an oddity in most people’s eyes, because they judge from outward appearances” (1179a12). But how precisely would this human regard courageous action? Who could be such a courageous human?

Perhaps one ought to consider a being such as Socrates whose courage was displayed both in words and in deeds. He was courageous, not only in the battlefield, where particularly in retreat he shone like no other in the defense of his worth-while city and worth-while friends (Symp. 220 , Laches 181b), but also in the world of the struggle for articulation and clarification. The contemplative Socrates tries to get clearer on the nature of courage in the Platonic Laches. Although the dialogue seemingly ends in Socratic aporia, for he tells us “what I don’t advise is that we allow ourselves to remain in the same condition we are now” (201a), it carries the seeds to move beyond aporia in the very picture of Socrates. Socrates’ quest is one of self-understanding and courageous questioning of his and other’s way of life. Socrates will fight, but he will do so nowhere better than in the realm of understanding. Perhaps even deaths will follow and new re-births from a wise human who leads us “into giving an account of (our) present life-style and of the way (we have) spent it in the past” (187e). However, unlike Socrates, Aristotle, whose work so questions us while at the same time aiding us in clarifying our perplexities, did not choose the hemlock.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts