by Slavoj Zizek
An argument for the continued revelance of communist political proposals and an effort to give some historical assessment on the recent financial meltdown. The two components are connected.
Some reservations up front. I fundamentally disagree with Zizek’s rejection of socialism and reformist political leftist solutions on behalf of more revolutionary hardcore communism, but he makes a number of effective arguments worth considering seriously. There were also a number of very minor cultural details in which I found the argument in the book flawed. It’s good that they’re used at all, making an effort to incorporate mass-cultural and even some genre elements in a thoughful way. However, I disagree with the notion that the Dark Knight’s Joker is a real parallel to any contemporary European leader, or that the treatment of heroic character is quite as shallow as the work presumes.
There are a lot of extremely compelling arguments in the book however, from the possible uses of hypocrisy to the danger in assuming the financial crisis will empower the forces of the left. In terms of recent political developments like the financial crisis, the preceding context of deregulation and the presidency of Obama to date there’s some of the best insight I’ve seen, offering overall a surprisngly balanced and complex viewpoint.
The book is well written, thoughtful, and very well argued in a fashion that makes me hesitant to try excessive summary. Recommended.
Worse than: Empire by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri
Better than: Reading After Theory by Valentine Cunningham
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Reading After Theory
by Valentine Cunningham
There’s some skilled work and interesting ideas that come through, but ultimately this is a poor argument pushed through against strawmen. It takes a stand against postmodernism and literary theory, arguing that it’s practioners hate texts and write incomprehensibly. Neither aspect is true, and the other mud Cunningham tries to hurl also falls rather off the mark. To its credit the book is crisply writtten and well organized, but remains fundmanetally unconvincing. It is useful to see the other side write and get an argument against one’s common assumptions, but in this case the counter-argumnent leaves me with further support for pomo and theory as liberating element for critical reading and thinking.
Worse than: The Future of Theory by Jean-Michel Rabate
Better than: Slavophile Thought by Susanna Rabow-Edling
There’s some skilled work and interesting ideas that come through, but ultimately this is a poor argument pushed through against strawmen. It takes a stand against postmodernism and literary theory, arguing that it’s practioners hate texts and write incomprehensibly. Neither aspect is true, and the other mud Cunningham tries to hurl also falls rather off the mark. To its credit the book is crisply writtten and well organized, but remains fundmanetally unconvincing. It is useful to see the other side write and get an argument against one’s common assumptions, but in this case the counter-argumnent leaves me with further support for pomo and theory as liberating element for critical reading and thinking.
Worse than: The Future of Theory by Jean-Michel Rabate
Better than: Slavophile Thought by Susanna Rabow-Edling
Heterotopia: Postmodern Utopia and the Body Politics ed
edited by Tobin Siebers
A collection of articles, highly uneven in category, but with enough quality to make the book worthwhile. Also benefits from some fasinating concepts, and a very interesting linking of different subfields and specific ideas. One of the most referenced texts within the book is Donna Haraghway’s article "A Cyborg Manifesto", and its call for a broader approach to understanding what is human, in the academic philosophical sense.
Some of the articles are rather flat, but there is ultimately enough interesting material in here for a number of well formed arguments and a multitude of intriguing question. The best piece is probably the last one, an article by Delazny that really centers the question on the body and gender, and is overall an excellently written and deeply engaging piece of prose.
A collection of articles, highly uneven in category, but with enough quality to make the book worthwhile. Also benefits from some fasinating concepts, and a very interesting linking of different subfields and specific ideas. One of the most referenced texts within the book is Donna Haraghway’s article "A Cyborg Manifesto", and its call for a broader approach to understanding what is human, in the academic philosophical sense.
Some of the articles are rather flat, but there is ultimately enough interesting material in here for a number of well formed arguments and a multitude of intriguing question. The best piece is probably the last one, an article by Delazny that really centers the question on the body and gender, and is overall an excellently written and deeply engaging piece of prose.
Monday, June 28, 2010
From the Other Shore
by Alexander Herzen, again a Russian nineteenth century nonfiction intellectual project.
Highly intense, with very strong prose. More than many of the things I read, there’s an appeal to this work simply in seeing how effectively the author can turn a phrase, with some very vivid and beautiful phrasing that doesn’t just make one sit back and admire the writing eloquence but pulls them into the statement. This writing is also in the service of some pretty strong ideas, involving a passionate statement in favor of revolution, pushing against autocracy and capitalism for a more just world. The arguments very much bear the stamp of the time, but they’re still relevant and very interesting. The elements that struck me the most were the anger at the revolutions of 1848 failing and the strong rebuke for the notion of an inherent progressive pattern to history.
It also has all the coherence and basic emotional sense of the text’s relevance that Chaadayev drifted around. Not that this is a definitive book of answers or that it lacks ambivalence, by any means. There is a lot of debate and different positions expressed, with main lines of tension existing between the viability of revolution, and more generally the worth versus decadence of Europe. The need for a strong change is definitely present, but there also appears to be varying judgements on the replacement system as an indvidiualist versus a communal project, with some arguments concerning anarchism and socialism that show a difficult balacning at point. The essays in the collection range across over a decade, and development in the political thought is to be expected, but there also seems a contradiction in the political proposals built in. Unlike with a lot of thinkers of the time, however, I find this a creative tension rather than a fatal one, and Herzen is best read as an opening approach to further study than as a definitive political philosophy. Certainly his own viewpoint of challenge and continual questioning in itself promotes such a stance.
I didn’t entirely love this work in reading, though looked at retrospectively I’m hard-pressed to point of real flaws. It’s certainly meaningful and deserves to be studied, and has aged remarkably well in grounds of both quality and ideas. If there’s a weakness it’s in a tendency to exclude the middle ground in arguing, jumping to extremes of exhalation or despair, total revolution or continuede status quo. That’s an issue built alongisde the basis of this type of appeal, but after a bit I did find it somewhat wearying.
Better than: Philosophical Letters by Peter Chaadayev
Worse than: Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Highly intense, with very strong prose. More than many of the things I read, there’s an appeal to this work simply in seeing how effectively the author can turn a phrase, with some very vivid and beautiful phrasing that doesn’t just make one sit back and admire the writing eloquence but pulls them into the statement. This writing is also in the service of some pretty strong ideas, involving a passionate statement in favor of revolution, pushing against autocracy and capitalism for a more just world. The arguments very much bear the stamp of the time, but they’re still relevant and very interesting. The elements that struck me the most were the anger at the revolutions of 1848 failing and the strong rebuke for the notion of an inherent progressive pattern to history.
It also has all the coherence and basic emotional sense of the text’s relevance that Chaadayev drifted around. Not that this is a definitive book of answers or that it lacks ambivalence, by any means. There is a lot of debate and different positions expressed, with main lines of tension existing between the viability of revolution, and more generally the worth versus decadence of Europe. The need for a strong change is definitely present, but there also appears to be varying judgements on the replacement system as an indvidiualist versus a communal project, with some arguments concerning anarchism and socialism that show a difficult balacning at point. The essays in the collection range across over a decade, and development in the political thought is to be expected, but there also seems a contradiction in the political proposals built in. Unlike with a lot of thinkers of the time, however, I find this a creative tension rather than a fatal one, and Herzen is best read as an opening approach to further study than as a definitive political philosophy. Certainly his own viewpoint of challenge and continual questioning in itself promotes such a stance.
I didn’t entirely love this work in reading, though looked at retrospectively I’m hard-pressed to point of real flaws. It’s certainly meaningful and deserves to be studied, and has aged remarkably well in grounds of both quality and ideas. If there’s a weakness it’s in a tendency to exclude the middle ground in arguing, jumping to extremes of exhalation or despair, total revolution or continuede status quo. That’s an issue built alongisde the basis of this type of appeal, but after a bit I did find it somewhat wearying.
Better than: Philosophical Letters by Peter Chaadayev
Worse than: Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Philosophical Letters
by Peter Chaadayev, 130 pages
It’s a piece, or rather a collection of pieces, that demands context from the politics of the period. The book shows a major literary and philosophical thinker in Russia for the nineteenth century working to develop explanations and descriptions for it. What’s most compelling in the account is precisely the ways Chaadayev isn’t sure, doesn’t have a fine-grained political program or clear ideology to argue in relation in Russia. There’s an absence of utopian projections and certainty, and likewise a lack of knowledge on exactly what society must be avoided. Instead the text struggles with itself, at various points blasting all of Russia as a failure and seeking to develop a unique and valuable Russian path on enlightenment. The emotional engagement behind engaging with forms of politics, economy and culture are compelling, and in despair as well as specific rhetoric Chaadayev delives some compelling points.
On the whole, though, the varied conclusions and invested style of the work made the whole somewhat less than the sum of its parts to me. It was interesting at numerous points but was rarely truly engaging, and ultimately lacked that small ineffable spark of true philosohpical genius.
Worse than: Beyond Good and Evil by Frederich Nietzche
Better than: The Conquest of Bread by P. Kropotkin
It’s a piece, or rather a collection of pieces, that demands context from the politics of the period. The book shows a major literary and philosophical thinker in Russia for the nineteenth century working to develop explanations and descriptions for it. What’s most compelling in the account is precisely the ways Chaadayev isn’t sure, doesn’t have a fine-grained political program or clear ideology to argue in relation in Russia. There’s an absence of utopian projections and certainty, and likewise a lack of knowledge on exactly what society must be avoided. Instead the text struggles with itself, at various points blasting all of Russia as a failure and seeking to develop a unique and valuable Russian path on enlightenment. The emotional engagement behind engaging with forms of politics, economy and culture are compelling, and in despair as well as specific rhetoric Chaadayev delives some compelling points.
On the whole, though, the varied conclusions and invested style of the work made the whole somewhat less than the sum of its parts to me. It was interesting at numerous points but was rarely truly engaging, and ultimately lacked that small ineffable spark of true philosohpical genius.
Worse than: Beyond Good and Evil by Frederich Nietzche
Better than: The Conquest of Bread by P. Kropotkin
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The Meaning of Love
The Meaning of Love by Vladimir Solovyov
A unique and intriguing work, offering insight into a stranger corner of the Russian intelligentsia's utopian theorizing. Here the stress is on romantic and erotic relationships, and the way this connects with religious mysticism, larger society, art and the core of life. It's valuable as a point of speculation and aesthetic philosophy. Not terribly persuasive though, given the disconnect from empirical detail, the lack of examining the main premises and a general hastiness in argumentative style. It also unfortunately carries forth a very strong sexist bias that renders women as utterly passive. Hardly uncommon for nineteenth century Russia, but it does sharply limit the ongoing value of the core argument. Largely useful for assessing perspectives from a certain historical context, rather than carrying through valuable insights into the present.
Worse than: Chaos, Territory, Art: Deluze and the Framing of the Earth by Elizabeth Grosz
Better than: The Conquest of Bread by Peter Kropotkin
A unique and intriguing work, offering insight into a stranger corner of the Russian intelligentsia's utopian theorizing. Here the stress is on romantic and erotic relationships, and the way this connects with religious mysticism, larger society, art and the core of life. It's valuable as a point of speculation and aesthetic philosophy. Not terribly persuasive though, given the disconnect from empirical detail, the lack of examining the main premises and a general hastiness in argumentative style. It also unfortunately carries forth a very strong sexist bias that renders women as utterly passive. Hardly uncommon for nineteenth century Russia, but it does sharply limit the ongoing value of the core argument. Largely useful for assessing perspectives from a certain historical context, rather than carrying through valuable insights into the present.
Worse than: Chaos, Territory, Art: Deluze and the Framing of the Earth by Elizabeth Grosz
Better than: The Conquest of Bread by Peter Kropotkin
Chaos, Territory, Art
Chaos, Territory, Art: Deluze and the Framing of the Earth by Elizabeth Grosz
Part of my interest in science fiction lies in its coherent radical difference, that is, it's ability to show a separate constructed world beyond daily experience in some major way, and in a fashion also beyond the imaginary settings that would have occurred to me in isolation. And yet the world has to make sense by its own logic, have a pattern of ontology that refers back on itself in a workable fashion, present an extended living situation for daily life that can represent another mode for existence. Grosz's book offers much of that type of pleasure, the interest in seeing a complex, intense and beautiful representation of life highly different from empirical description. It was an enjoyable, creative, and interesting thing to read, which may itself be read as a major criticism of the book as it's not intended to be science fiction--this view refers to our common world.
I'm not intending to dismiss this book as a fantasy concocted by a crazy person. In large part, my disconnect from the conclusions of the book and yet enjoyment of what it presented derive from my lack of familiarity with the study of biological evolution and the philosophy of arts. Grosz's book, as part of a commentary on another significant figure I haven't read, traces a system of aesthetics as linked to various things beyond sapience, bringing it again to natural biological processes and the very basis of perception. It's skillfully written, showing great command of language and adept working of complex analysis as well as reference to other authors. The central thesis that develops here is also compelling, pushing for a recovery of Darwin's non-mechanistic tone and a tie in of gender components to music, art and the larger biosphere.
Note I said compelling, not plausible. Here's the main stickling point, the central unbelievability of the argument, its main premises and the conclusion. My take on this aspect isn't as harsh as it may sound--among other things my interpretation is that Grosz intends much of the language as at least partially allegorical rather than literal. Additionally, I'm fairly certain my lack of familiarity with Deluze, the nuances of Darwin and Grosz's earlier work may me an ill-prepared reader in some basic ways. Still, in its approach to reading art into life and reinscribing of culture onto life its history doesn't appear tenable. This issue would be less significant if it weren't for the implications of such theories, the way it seems to naturalize essentialized categories of gender and produce heterosexuality as normative. There's a danger of these stances with any connection of gender to a reading of biology, and here if that wasn't the intent the text works insufficiently to distinguish itself from such positions.
So ultimately I have to count this work as a failed analysis, but for my experience it was nevertheless an informative and highly interesting failure.
Better than: The Meaning of Love by Vladimir Solovyov
Worse than: Gender Trouble by Judith Butler
Part of my interest in science fiction lies in its coherent radical difference, that is, it's ability to show a separate constructed world beyond daily experience in some major way, and in a fashion also beyond the imaginary settings that would have occurred to me in isolation. And yet the world has to make sense by its own logic, have a pattern of ontology that refers back on itself in a workable fashion, present an extended living situation for daily life that can represent another mode for existence. Grosz's book offers much of that type of pleasure, the interest in seeing a complex, intense and beautiful representation of life highly different from empirical description. It was an enjoyable, creative, and interesting thing to read, which may itself be read as a major criticism of the book as it's not intended to be science fiction--this view refers to our common world.
I'm not intending to dismiss this book as a fantasy concocted by a crazy person. In large part, my disconnect from the conclusions of the book and yet enjoyment of what it presented derive from my lack of familiarity with the study of biological evolution and the philosophy of arts. Grosz's book, as part of a commentary on another significant figure I haven't read, traces a system of aesthetics as linked to various things beyond sapience, bringing it again to natural biological processes and the very basis of perception. It's skillfully written, showing great command of language and adept working of complex analysis as well as reference to other authors. The central thesis that develops here is also compelling, pushing for a recovery of Darwin's non-mechanistic tone and a tie in of gender components to music, art and the larger biosphere.
Note I said compelling, not plausible. Here's the main stickling point, the central unbelievability of the argument, its main premises and the conclusion. My take on this aspect isn't as harsh as it may sound--among other things my interpretation is that Grosz intends much of the language as at least partially allegorical rather than literal. Additionally, I'm fairly certain my lack of familiarity with Deluze, the nuances of Darwin and Grosz's earlier work may me an ill-prepared reader in some basic ways. Still, in its approach to reading art into life and reinscribing of culture onto life its history doesn't appear tenable. This issue would be less significant if it weren't for the implications of such theories, the way it seems to naturalize essentialized categories of gender and produce heterosexuality as normative. There's a danger of these stances with any connection of gender to a reading of biology, and here if that wasn't the intent the text works insufficiently to distinguish itself from such positions.
So ultimately I have to count this work as a failed analysis, but for my experience it was nevertheless an informative and highly interesting failure.
Better than: The Meaning of Love by Vladimir Solovyov
Worse than: Gender Trouble by Judith Butler
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Walden
Walden by Henry David Thoreau
This work is a classic that I've been intending to read for a very long time. The main premise of detachment from civilization by a leading Ameriacan transcendentalist made it the type of book I wanted to get around to, but simultaneously was resistant to actually opening up. Having fanally made the effort, I was quite pleasantly surprised, finding the terms of writing and the content offered actually living up to the larger literary hype. Reading it wasn't a revelatory work or a transformation of insight, but it has aged quite well and is worth reading. I didn't agree with all the major points of Thoreau's philosophy, particularly the broader overgeneralizations, but he's well worth engaging with, and compared to a lot of nineteenth century thinkers works surprisingly well without needing to be significantly reconstructed.
One of the most interesting things reading through this work was how, counter to my expectations, it didn't feature Thoreau isolating himself from society. To an extent he moves in this direction, but he remains in proximity to other people, wandering in and out of contact with them. A pretty good demonstration in that of the pressures against real isolation, and the extent to which people remain bound up in the market economy. On a broader level, there's the whole question of focus on nature and simplicity, as both an ideal and a functional societal program. It's still somewhat overstated and not quite the solution Thoreau holds out, but as an element in wider platform, yes, it can be useful. Bridging in the philosophy without reaching the extent of anarcho-primitivism would be good, and there are certainly implications for integrating the kind of naturalist environmental perspective offered here with twenty first century consumer lifestyles.
Where I'd say there's more appeal but also more fundamental problems is in the focus on individualism, a measure of isolation and self-restraint that's frankly unworkable. To a large extent Thoreau seems to recognize this--in the limits of the disengagement as well as the return to civilization to the extent of involving the book itself for general distribution--but it's still part of the mystique of the work that needs to be dismantled a bit further. Where it's most engaging and, surprisingly, promising, is in the aesthetics, the form of beauty seen in relating to nature. Again it's an utopian ideal and somewhat overstated, but there are a number of passages that are themselves beautiful and they offer a perspective that's worth trying to discover.
Better than: Autobiography of Mohandas Ghandhi
Worse than: Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky
This work is a classic that I've been intending to read for a very long time. The main premise of detachment from civilization by a leading Ameriacan transcendentalist made it the type of book I wanted to get around to, but simultaneously was resistant to actually opening up. Having fanally made the effort, I was quite pleasantly surprised, finding the terms of writing and the content offered actually living up to the larger literary hype. Reading it wasn't a revelatory work or a transformation of insight, but it has aged quite well and is worth reading. I didn't agree with all the major points of Thoreau's philosophy, particularly the broader overgeneralizations, but he's well worth engaging with, and compared to a lot of nineteenth century thinkers works surprisingly well without needing to be significantly reconstructed.
One of the most interesting things reading through this work was how, counter to my expectations, it didn't feature Thoreau isolating himself from society. To an extent he moves in this direction, but he remains in proximity to other people, wandering in and out of contact with them. A pretty good demonstration in that of the pressures against real isolation, and the extent to which people remain bound up in the market economy. On a broader level, there's the whole question of focus on nature and simplicity, as both an ideal and a functional societal program. It's still somewhat overstated and not quite the solution Thoreau holds out, but as an element in wider platform, yes, it can be useful. Bridging in the philosophy without reaching the extent of anarcho-primitivism would be good, and there are certainly implications for integrating the kind of naturalist environmental perspective offered here with twenty first century consumer lifestyles.
Where I'd say there's more appeal but also more fundamental problems is in the focus on individualism, a measure of isolation and self-restraint that's frankly unworkable. To a large extent Thoreau seems to recognize this--in the limits of the disengagement as well as the return to civilization to the extent of involving the book itself for general distribution--but it's still part of the mystique of the work that needs to be dismantled a bit further. Where it's most engaging and, surprisingly, promising, is in the aesthetics, the form of beauty seen in relating to nature. Again it's an utopian ideal and somewhat overstated, but there are a number of passages that are themselves beautiful and they offer a perspective that's worth trying to discover.
Better than: Autobiography of Mohandas Ghandhi
Worse than: Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky
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