Thursday, September 11, 2014

On Slavoj Zizek

The experience of reading Slavoj Zizek is akin to the experience of watching a David Lynch film: if one tries to find a strict linear plot, or even a theme, one is doomed to fail. From chapter to chapter with Zizek, as it is scene to scene with Lynch, one struggles to find a coherent narrative that strings everything together. In the same way that it is hard to say what Mulholland Drive (or Lost Highway, or Inland Empire, or most of Lynch's projects, for that matter) is "about," it is hard to say what exactly Zizek's books are "about." Although Zizek's newest book, Event: A Philosophical Journey Through a Concept, aims to explore the metaphysical concept of Event (what do we mean when we say something is an Event, what are the causes of Events, do all Events need causes, and so on), the book rarely stays on this subject. This is typical Zizek: his books rarely stay on the theme he claims it to have (see: The Fragile Absolute or First as Tragedy, Then As Farce for further examples).

Naturally, such a writing style can be immensely frustrating. When one reads Zizek, one must learn how to read in a new way. "In a narrative," Zizek tells us, we often need a "shift in perspective [in order to] get what the story is really about" (13). It is characteristic of the master of counter-intuition to give advice such as this, but in reality he is perhaps providing a hermeneutic to reading his own texts: if you read Zizek the way you'd traditionally read philosophy, you won't get much out of his work.1

How, then, should one read Zizek? In a similar fashion that one should watch a Lynch film: by engaging with what is occurring right in front of you, not trying to connect it with anything that has occurred before it, nor expecting it to connect with anything that will happen in the future of your experience. Undoubtedly, parts of Zizek's books (again, as with Lynch's films) are utter nonsense. One must only glance at the chapter "Felix Culpa" (specifically, pages 35-40) in Event to see some of the worst exegesis on the Fall and the life / death of Christ ever written. Zizek's theology makes some radical claims that come down to nothing more than poor interpretation, logical fallacies, and theologically immature understandings of the inner life of God / Trinity: Christ's death destroys metaphysics2 , Adam's Fall was logically required so that Christ should come 3, and that God "created the world out of purely selfish vanity"(39) 4.

Due to such views, it is hard not to see Zizek as the clown that many have pegged him to be (particularly from the analytic camp). But putting such a label on Zizek and thus not paying close attention to what he has to say is a very unwise move – Kierkegaard's proclamation "Once you label me, you negate me" is quite appropriate concerning Zizek. I certainly do not claim to offer an apologetic for Zizek – I am skeptical of him myself –  but I do believe one might miss some profound moments if she chooses to see Zizek only as an eccentric cultural theorist.

A prime example of Zizek doing fine work is his chapter "Buddhism Naturalized," which reads well as a stand-alone essay. In the chapter, Zizek forges a link between contemporary neuroscience / eliminatative materialism and Buddhism.

"Brain scientists are telling us that the notion of Self as a free autonomous subject is a mere user's illusion; that there is no Self, there are just objective neuronal processes. They key question here is: how do we as humans relate to this insight? Is it possible not only to think the self-less world as a theoretical model, but to live it? to live as 'being no one'?" (59).

This, of course, is nothing new for anyone who has kept up slightly with neuroscience and philosophy of mind. But what Zizek brings to table is the idea that what contemporary neuroscience is asking us to do, i.e., forget our notion of "Self," is what Buddhism also strives to do with Its concept of Enlightenment:

"Buddhist Enlightenment, in which the Self directly, in its innermost self-experience, assumes its own non-beings, i.e., it recognizes itself as a 'simulated self,' a representational fiction. Such an enlightened awareness is no longer self-awareness: it is no longer I who experiences myself as the agent of my thoughts: 'my' awareness is the direct awareness of a self-less system, a self-less knowledge. In short, there effectively is a link between the position taken by radical brain sciences and the Buddhist idea of an-atman (of the Self's inexistence)" (61).

Regardless of Zizek's credibility as knowledgeable person concerning religion and philosophy of mind, this is undoubtedly one of the most creative moves I have read concerning these subjects. It would be interesting to have a handful of Buddhist scholars and eliminatative materialists (Paul and Patricia Churchland, Daniel Dennett, etc ) hash this idea out.

Event, like Zizek himself, is frustrating, creative, simultaneously both predictable and unpredictable, absurd, and counter-intuitive, It's a smorgasbord of Marxism, Lacanian psychoanalysis, high and low culture, theology, and Hegelian dialectic. While Zizek is certainly not the most logically rigorous philosopher, he will certain make his readers think. And is that not one of the most important jobs of philosophy?



1 The is true, of course, of Lynch's films: if you watch a Lynch film the way you would a traditional film, you will likely get little out of it. In this sense, Zizek's books are quite Lynchian – though I am aware that I am not using this term in the "macabre and mundane" utterance in which it is typically used.↩



2 Zizek believes that, in Christ, God falls to Earth, thus destroying the non-physical realm. And, since Christ dies, God is dead. Further, Zizek does not believe in Christ's bodily resurrection: "we should not take the resurrection as something that happens after Christ's death, but as the Holy Ghost" (35). Zizek's trinitarian theology is essentially this: God "falls" in the form of Christ, Christ dies, and the holy Ghost alone is among Christians in the natural realm. As such, metaphysics is destroyed.



3 I suppose that such a perspective should be unsurprising coming from Zizek: he has claimed that Calvinism is the purest form of Christianity



4 The inner life of God is, obviously, a very tough subject to discuss – perhaps the most abstract and challenging in theology and the Philosophy of God. For this reason, I do not want to give Zizek a hard time – I certainly cannot claim to be an expert on the subject! However, Zizek's claim that God is ultimately selfish seems to go against the fundamental Trinitarian understanding of God. As Daniel Castelo correctly notes in his short work Theological Theodicy, "God did not create in order to start being relational; on the contrary, God created out of God's life, which is inherently relational. What the triune God did in creation the cosmos was not unnatural or unusual for God since within God's life is Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Being relational is not what God decided to be but what God has always been" (42). As such, God creating is not a purely selfish act. Because God's inner life is a constant relational giving and receiving between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we can expect God to create and be in relation with humans in a similar way: God constantly pours himself into us, and we worship him. Selflessness and selfishness, then, and perhaps less easily demarcated then we would like to think. I believe that Robert Jensen makes an argument of that sort somewhere, but at this moment I cannot remember where.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

David Bentley Hart on realism in literature.

"Realism is a worthless standard to apply to any work of art, and what we call realism is as often as not a cheap parlor trick, a mediocre writer's attempt to distract us from his lack of poetic range by flaunting an overdeveloped talent for mimicry or an unrestrained appetite for inventories of inconsequential detail."

– David Bentley Hart, "Tolstoy and Dostoevsky (and Christ)."

I always get excited when Hart, who usually writes about religion and philosophy, strays into the realm of literary criticism. This is one of my favorite essays of his (along with a more recent piece he wrote on Nabokov), and I think he nails literary realism on the head here. Not too long ago I was arguing with someone about Zadie Smith (whose fiction I find remarkably overrated) and Hart's quote came to mind as apt criticism of White Teeth.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Kierkegaard on Divine Compassion.

"Divine compassion, however, the unlimited recklessness in concerning oneself only with the suffering, not in the least with oneself, and of unconditionally recklessly concerning oneself with each sufferer – people can interpret this only as a kind of madness over which we are not sure whether we should laugh or cry. Even if there had not been any other obstacle for the inviter, this alone would have been sufficient for him to come to grief in the world.

"Let someone make just a little venture in divine compassion – that is, be just a trifle reckless in being compassionate, and you will promptly see how people will judge it. Let someone who could have better conditions in life, let him not, remaining in such a difference of conditions, give much to the poor, philanthropically (that is, superiority) visit the poor and sick and miserable – no, let him completely give up his difference and earnest seek the company of, completely live with, the poor and lowly of the people, the workers, the manual laborers, the cement mixers, etc.!

"[...] For people are willing enough to practice compassion and self-denial, willing enough to seek after wisdom etc., but they want to determine the criterion themselves, that it shall be to a certain degree. They do not wish to do away with all these glorious virtues; on the contrary, they want – at a cheap price – to have as comfortably as possible the appearance of and the reputation for practicing them. Therefore as soon as the true divine compassion appears in the world it is unconditionally the sacrifice. It comes out of compassion for people, and it is people who trample it down."

- Soren Kierekgaard, Practice in Christianity, pp 58, 60.

When the Christian feels the need to be convicted, when she feels as if she is doing Christianity "right," she should go straight to Kierkegaard. I've rekindled my love for him the past few days, and this passage in Practice in Christianity hit me with a particularly powerful conviction. To strive towards this sort of unlimited recklessness, I think of my beloved prayer attributed to St. Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, the truth;
Where there is doubt, the faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

[I am, however, curious as to what Susan Wolf, who wrote the fantastic essay "Moral Saints," would have to say about Kierkegaard on this one. ]

Monday, January 13, 2014

Two quotes concerning being and evil.

The school year has begun. Not only does this mean I am attending classes again, but it also means that I am around a handful of peers of similar interest. I let my roommate borrow David Bentley Hart's The Doors of the Sea over Christmas break. To my satisfaction, he loved it just as much as I did. His recent reading of the text made discussion of the it inevitable. I flipped through the book to read him my favorite quote. It reads as such:

We are inclined (especially today) to think of freedom wholly in arbitrary or pathetic volition, a potency made actual every time one choose a particular course of action out from a variety of other possibilities... A higher understanding of human freedom, however, is inseparable from a definition of human nature. To be free is to be able to flourish as the kind of being one is, and so to attain the ontological good toward which one's nature is oriented; freedom is the unhindered realization of a complex nature in its proper end (natural and supernatural), and this is consummate liberty and happiness. (70-71)

Returning to this quote months after reading the book brought to mind another quote that I read last quarter. It comes from St. Thomas Aquinas's Summa Theologica and in fact, part of it I drew from to form my blog address. It's utterly fantastic and relates to the same topics, which isn't surprising considering the amount of knowledge Hart controls concerning Aquinas in his excellent The Experience of God. Aquinas says that "No being is said to be evil, considered as being, but only so far as it lacks being. Thus a man is said to be evil because he lacks the being of virtue; and an eye is said to be evil because it lacks the power to see well."

I've been reflecting on these two quotes the best few days and haven't come up with any conclusive argument between the two. But it seems obvious to me that the two are interconnected and touching on the same topic in a similar manner. As I dig more into Aquinas and his ideas concerning God and metaphysics this quarter, I hope that a connection starts to form. I post these two quotes here as a mere reference for myself. Hopefully I will return and use them in a paper of sorts.

This idea of evil – not having substance of its own – is, of course, the traditional Christian perspective. What I am interested in unpacking further is the idea of having more being equating with more freedom. So the maximal Being (if we can crudely call God that, though there are some perhaps some linguistic problems to address here) would also have maximal freedom. This is Hart's perspective, and certain holds true for those in the Classical Theistic / Thomistic camp, as opposed to the Theistic Personalism (to use Brian Davies apt term) of philosophers such as Plantinga, Swinburne, etc.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Reading List.

Before I started doing regular blog posts, I thought I would post a general reading list of the texts I'll be reading this quarter. Some of the books, such as Bernard Lonergan's Method in Theology and Samuel Wells' Improvisation will be referenced for their author's techniques in doing philosophy and theology, rather than the actual philosophical "content" of said works. These are works that I won't be trying to finish, but more of what I try to reference when discussing methods of thinking. For that reason I note them here. Several of these books will be read in whole, while others will be used for selected chapters and essays in within.

In my free time I hope to dig into the works of David Bentley Hart, an Eastern Orthodox philosopher and theologian who has been an interest of mine for about a year now. It is likely that a post or two will be dedicated to his works. If you are interested, feel free to read any of his books along with me. A few friends are reading The Experience of God with me, which is essentially a work of comparative religion. Hart attempts to articulate a metaphysics (being), philosophy of mind / phenomenology (consciousness), and beauty / goodness (bliss) that captures the "God" that the great theistic traditions speak of when they talk about God. Personally, I highly recommend his small book The Doors of the Sea, which is easily the most helpful book I've ever read concerning the problem of evil, suffering, and theodicy.

  • The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss by David Bentley Hart.
  • In The Aftermath By David Bentley Hart.
  • The Devil and Pierre Gernet by David Bentley Hart.
  • Letters to a Doubting Thomas By C. Stephen Layman.
  • War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy.
  • Tolstoy by A.N. Wilson.
  • Is There a God? by Richard Swineburg.
  • Faith and Rationality, a collection of essays, edited by Alvin Plantinga and Nicholas Wolterstorff.
  • The Consolations of Philosophy by Boethius.
  • God and Other Minds by Alvin Plantinga.
  • An Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas by Thomas Aquinas.
  • Method in Theology by Bernard Lonergan.
  • Improvisation by Samuel Wells.
  • What Episcopalians Believe by Samuel Wells.
  • The Mission & Death of Jesus in Islam & Christianity by Mathias Zahniser.
And of course, this blog wouldn't really be mine without guest appearances of Kierkegaard, Hauerwas, and Simone Weil.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

A preface of sorts.

The primary function of this blog is to compile thoughts from the variety of literature I read. As a person who reads a fair amount of fiction, contemporary analytic philosophy (primarily in the field of the Philosophy of Religion), theology (primarily in the field of Christian Ethics), as well as having a decent canon of existential and continental writings, it may be wise to find a location to write my thoughts in an analytic fashion – a location of clarity and concise construction. Personal journals and notebooks include my stream of consciousness thought, and this is entirely appropriate. The function of this blog is not to produce those kinds of thoughts.

The purpose of this blog is for me write occasional posts that concern what I reading in the classes I take at Seattle Pacific University, along with whatever reading I do on the side. For example, I will be reading Medieval philosophy next quarter, and I'm curious how this will change how I think about God and reason. I will also be reading David Bentley Hart's The Experience of God along with a friend of mine who does not believe in the God as declared to exist by the Jewish/Christian/Islamic faiths. I am curious as to how this experience – the reading of the text and the discussion of the text with a close non-Christian friend – will raise new questions about God and how I will address them. My intended purpose for this blog is to have a place in which I can clear confused thoughts and questions – Is there a God, exclusivism vs. pluralism, what are the metaphysical traits of God, etc – that I have and will surely encounter again in my readings, along with newer questions raised by new texts I read and the context they are read in.

I'm wrapping up a contemporary epistemology course with a paper concerning Plantinga's argument that belief in God is (or, perhaps more appropriately, can be) properly basic. I am curious as to how my perspective on this issue will change after I read more of St. Thomas Aquinas, a person who certainly did not hold that belief in God was properly basic. In this blog, I can hold the two arguments side by side. I don't know where I fall, but I want to explore the options intelligently – what are the consequences of claiming belief in God is properly basic? How does, if at all, does this help the Christian epistemically?  Having a location to put these thoughts – the arguments and the appeal to them – seems to be beneficial in striving towards clarity within a puzzled mind. I hope to find some sort of clarity when I post, whether it be in summarizing philosophical arguments, reviewing a novel, or simply cleaning thoughts and trying to find where to go next in my thinking.

This blog is not for anyone's particular pleasure but my own. However, I am making it available for others to read, for I have friends that share interests with me and can offer insights and wisdom that would go unexamined by me if it was not for them. For these people I am very thankful  Life offers many big questions that one cannot examine purely by oneself with a few critical texts in hand.

– Samuel.

P.S. The title of the blog is a Wittgenstein reference, as my close friends would undoubtedly guess. My copy of the Investigations is currently sitting on my desk, and I can think of no title perhaps more appropriate for this blog.