With the rapid development of contemporary social economy and the relative stability of the political situation, art has also developed rapidly. But currently, there are many unique and innovative art works in society, and the style and theme of the works are increasingly deviating from people's lives. In response to this issue, this study attempts to analyze the reflective spirit and tragic consciousness in "Scar Art" works from a realistic perspective. The research adopted comparative and image analysis methods to compare (...) the stylistic differences between Chinese scar art and other schools of art, using representative painters' oil paintings as samples to analyze the inner diameter, techniques, emotions, and visual expression of their creations. The objective was to provide reflection and inspiration for the current Chinese art community through the analysis of the realism spirit contained in the "scar art" works that bring profound value to the Chinese art community. In response to the current problem of oil painting creation being detached from people's lives, this study analyzes the artistic characteristics of scar art works and the expectations of reflecting the characteristics of the times, providing inspiration for modern art creation. The study found out that realism spirit in "scar art" is based on the principle of objectively reflecting the current era and society, paying attention to the spirit of people's lives, which is also what the current development of art needs to consider. (shrink)

Recently, a number of Anglo-American philosophers of very different sorts--pragmatists, metaphysicians, philosophers of language, philosophers of law, moral philosophers--have taken a reflective rather than merely recreational interest in literature. Does this literary turn mean that philosophy is coming to an end or merely down to earth? In this collection of essays, one of the most insightful of contemporary literary theorists investigates the intersection of literature and philosophy, analyzing the emerging preferences for practice over theory, particulars over universals, events (...) over structures, inhabitants over spectators, an ethics of responsibility over a morality of rules, and a desire for intimacy with the world instead of simply a disengaged knowledge of it. (shrink)

In the preface to his new monograph, Tragic Beauty in Whitehead and Japanese Aesthetics, Steve Odin proposes to do two things: better understand Alfred N. Whitehead's "poetic vision of tragic beauty" through comparison with Japanese aesthetics, and thereby also suggest a "new religio-aesthetic vision of tragic beauty and its resolution in the supreme ecstasy of peace". He does more than that, though. Besides thoroughly discussing Whitehead's aesthetics throughout the latter's works, from An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Natural Knowledge to (...) Modes of Thought, he enriches this aesthetics by discussing similar themes in American philosophy and literature, including Charles Peirce, John... (shrink)

New Blackfriars, Volume 102, Issue 1100, Page 589-593, July 2021.

In the article, the author analyses the impact of the tragic experiences during the Holocaust on contemporary ethics and literature. Such considerations coincide with yet another anniversary – the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp, celebrated globally as Holocaust Memorial Day. The article also considers the reasons why testimonies from Holocaust survivors have not had an adequate impact on society. The author argues that trivialisation of the Holocaust tragedy occurred in modern science and it is related to the fact (...) that traditional ethics has not been able to convincingly explain why the Holocaust occurred in the most civilised nations. Thus, Holocaust testimonies should be constantly popularised in society for the good of all mankind. Literature seems to be the best form of mass media for this task and it is also a recorder of human emotions. According to the author, it is essential that humanity is protected this way against the possibility of a similar tragedy occurring in the future. (shrink)

Twelve scholars in religion and the humanities present Christian interpretations of tragedy in literature, including works by Nietzsche, Kafka, Faulkner, Shakespeare, Milton and others.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Epic and Tragic Music: The Union of the Arts in the Eighteenth CenturyJoshua BillingsI. The Union of the Arts in WeimarAround 1800 in Weimar, thought on Greek tragedy crystallized around the union of speech, music, and gesture—what Wagner would later call the Gesamtkunstwerk. Friedrich Schiller and Johann Gottfried Herder both found something lacking in modern spoken theater in comparison with ancient tragedy’s synthesis of the arts. Schiller’s 1803 “Trauerspiel (...) mit Chören,” Die Braut von Messina, represents a radical experiment in recreating the ancient union of the arts.1 The Greek tragic chorus, revived in Schiller’s drama, becomes the modern locus for this union. In a preface appended to the published version of the play, Schiller writes,The tragic work of poetry first becomes a whole through its theatrical performance: the poet only gives the words; music and dance must be added as well to enliven them. As long as the chorus lacks this powerful sensory accompaniment, so long will it appear in the economy of a tragedy as an alien element, a foreign body, a retardation.2 [End Page 99]Exactly contemporary (and possibly in response), Herder’s discussion of drama in his journal Adrastea similarly views the union of the arts in ancient tragedy as a corrective for modern drama:3A Greek who attended our tragedy [Trauerspiel], used to the musical voice of his own, would have to find in it a sad play [trauriges Spiel]. “How wordy-mute,” he would say, “how dull and soundless! Have I stepped into a decorated grave? You shout and sigh and bluster! Move your arms, strain your facial features, reason, declaim; but does your voice and feeling never become song? Do you not miss the strength of this demonic expression? Do your rhythms, your iambs never urge you on to the accents of the true language of the gods?”4The focus on media distinguishes these Weimar discussions of tragedy both from the Jena aesthetics of the Schlegel brothers and from the Idealist “philosophy of the tragic” already underway in the works of Schelling, Hölderlin, and Hegel.5 Though both Schiller and Herder are relatively indifferent to dance, their writings reflect strong interests in music.6 Their considerations [End Page 100] of tragedy show a close engagement with the sensory experience of drama that is unusual for its time, and has little precedent in Germany.For Schiller’s late poetics, the union of words, music, and gesture is a means of radically dividing the experience of theater from daily life. The tragic chorus “should be for us a living wall, which tragedy sets up around itself in order to close itself off wholly from the real world.”7 It “justifies the tragic poet in this raising of tone, which fills the ear, which strains the spirit, which broadens the whole mind.”8 Musical speech, Schiller argues, allows for an expression that transcends conventional language and quotidian existence. Schiller had hoped “to let [the choral intermezzos] be recited in the way of song and to accompany them with an instrument,” though his wish went unfulfilled in the first, and subsequent performances.9 Yet even after relinquishing the real possibility of a union of the arts in performances of Braut, Schiller upheld it as an ideal in his preface.Herder is remembered today primarily for his elaboration of an organic historicism, which understands cultural phenomena according to the circumstances of their creation. Yet his concern was more than merely historical; especially in the Adrastea, he continually sought guidance for the present in the events of the past. A contemporary, writing shortly after Herder’s death, saw the two orientations, historical and critical, as equally important: investigation of the past was intended as “a didactic or warning image” for his own time.10 The guiding idea of the journal was similarly educative, based on Herder’s understanding of Adrastea as a principle of justice and moderation.11 In Herder’s thought, as in most writing on ancient literature of the eighteenth century, there is no absolute division between scholarly and critical concerns: the study of ancient works was both an end in itself and a... (shrink)

If the tragic interpretation of experience is still so current, despite its disastrous ethical consequences, it is because it shapes our subjectivity. Instead of contradicting the ideals of autonomy and freedom, a modern subjectivity based on self-victimization in effect enables them. By embracing subjection to an alienating other (the Law, Power) the autonomous subject protects its sameness from the disruption of real people. Seductions of Fate stages a dialogue between this tragic agent of political emancipation and the unconditional ethical demands (...) it seeks to evade. (shrink)

Tragedy as Philosophy in the Reformation World' examines how sixteenth- and seventeenth-century poets, theologians, and humanist critics turned to tragedy to understand providence and agencies human and divine in the crucible of the Reformation. Rejecting familiar assumptions about tragedy, vital figures like Philipp Melanchthon, David Pareus, Lodovico Castelvetro, John Rainolds, and Daniel Heinsius developed distinctly philosophical ideas of tragedy,irreducible to drama or performance, inextricable from rhetoric, dialectic, and metaphysics. In its proximity to philosophy, tragedy afforded careful readers crucial insight into (...) causality, probability, necessity, and the terms of human affect and action. With these resources at hand, poets and critics produced aseries of daring and influential theses on tragedy between the 1550s and the 1630s, all directly related to pressing Reformation debates concerning providence, predestination, faith, and devotional practice. Under the influence of Aristotle's Poetics, they presented tragedy as an exacting forensic tool, enabling attentive readers to apprehend totality. And while some poets employed tragedy to render sacred history palpable with new energy and urgency, others marshalled a precise philosophicalnotion of tragedy directly against spectacle and stage-playing, endorsing anti-theatrical theses on tragedy inflected by the antique Poetics. In other words, this work illustrates the degree to which some of the influential poets and critics in the period, emphasized philosophical precision at the0expense of-even to the exclusion of-dramatic presentation. (shrink)

Reading literature allows for an experience of the Other1 that necessarily implies distance, blindness and unsurpassable separation. The writer reaches the reader through text, the sole means for the reader to encounter the writer in her work. Writing and reading are essentially and inescapably mediated activities where the two poles reach each other through a curtain or a screen, a mask without a face. A writer may read her own text, or she may give it to others, but she (...) can never read it in their place. Rather, they encounter one another through a written text, a representation of a representation of the writer's thoughts, which translates their speech into a purely graphic representation devoid of intention and... (shrink)

Miguel de Unamuno’s theory of tragic sentiment is central to understanding his unique contributions to religious existential thought, which centers on the production of perhaps the most unavoidable and distinctive kind of human feeling. His theory is rightly attributed with being influenced by the gestational thought of, inter alios, Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche, but within these pages I should like to suggest a peculiar kinship between seemingly strange bedfellows, namely, between Unamuno and Immanuel Kant. Although the relationship between Unamuno and (...) Kant is conflicted, ranging from clear indications of influence to expressions of antipathy, there has been relatively little comparative research done on these two thinkers. Moreover, this scant literature has mainly explored connections between Unamuno’s existential thought and Kant’s first two Critiques. In these works, however, feelings are regarded as inclinations and thus receive no serious consideration. In what follows, I therefore juxtapose Unamuno’s analysis of tragic feeling in The Tragic Sense of Life with Kant’s discussion of the feelings of beauty and the sublime in the Critique of Judgment. (shrink)

A history of the comic has not yet been written. According to historians, the comic had very different, and sometimes even opposite causes, in relation to different ages and cultures. What provoked laughter in one civilization could be taken quite seriously in another. The comic has always had a particular function and its nature, its internal composition, has not been immutable. It could be kept within the limits of a single sphere that was assigned to it in particular (the comic, (...) as opposed to the tragic), but it could also be elevated to a conceptual vision of the world, and in this case, it embraced much more universal domains of human history. Nevertheless, nothing has been written on the history of the comic throughout all ages and encompassing all peoples. Serious studies concerning the place it occupies in the history of civilizations are, however, of great interest. (shrink)

William Storm reinterprets the concept of the tragic as both a fundamental human condition and an aesthetic process in dramatic art. He proposes an original theoretical relation between a generative and consistent tragic ground and complex characterization patterns. For Storm, it is the dismemberment of character, not the death, that is the signature mark of tragic drama. Basing his theory in the sparagmos, the dismembering rite associated with Dionysus, Storm identifies a rending tendency that transcends the ancient Greek setting and (...) can be recognized transhistorically. The dramatic character in any era who suffers the tragic fate must do so in the manner of the ancient god of theater: the depicted self is torn apart, figuratively if not literally, psychologically if not physically. Storm argues that a newly objectified concept of the tragic can prove more useful critically and diagnostically than the traditional and more subjective tragic "vision." Further, he develops a theory of the tragic field, a model for the connective and cumulative activity that brings about the distinctive Dionysian effect upon character. His theory is supported with case studies from Agamemnon and Iphigenia in Aulis, King Lear, and The Seagull. Storm's examination of the dramatic form of tragedy and the existential questions it raises is sensitive to both their universal relevance and their historical particularity. (shrink)

No other thinker so engaged the Russian cultural imagination of the early twentieth century as did Friedrich Nietzche. The Revolution of Moral Consciousness shows how Nietzschean thought influenced the brilliant resurgence of literary life that started in the 1890s and continued for four decades. Through an analysis of the Russian encounter with Nietzsche, Edith Clowes defines the shift in ethical and aesthetic vision that motivated Russia's unprecedented artistic renascence and at the same time led its followers to the brink of (...) cultural despair. Clowes shows how in the last years of the nineteenth century a diverse array of writers and critics discovered Nietzsche's thought, embracing or repudiating it with equal vigor. The literary storm brewing around Nietzsche and the concurrent relaxation of censorship combined to attract a public eager to follow the new intellectual fashion. Young writers, such as Andreev and Kuprin, welcomed the idea of the "superman" as a promising path to personal fulfillment. The tragic fates of their protagonists and the alluring gospel of the vulgar Zarathustra-like characters of such bestselling authors as Boborykin, Artsybashev, and Verbitskaia found enthusiastic, if indiscriminating, audiences ready to be "taught" how to "find themselves." By considering this Nietzschean cult, Clowes draws fresh insight into the nature of the budding popular-culture industry in Russia and the fast-growing reading public. From this ferment emerged the greatest Russian literary voices of the early twentieth century. The revolutionary romantics, Gorky and Lunacharsky, sought in Nietzsche's writing a new vision of total social and cultural change. Merezhkovsky led a generation of mystic symbolists in the search for a literary myth of resurrection. Ivanov, Blok, and Belyi appropriated the image of the "crucified Dionysus" as the central symbol of spiritual transfiguration. Their encounters with Nietzschean thought disclose an even more profound creative struggle with their own cultural past and its established formulations of nation and individual, culture and history. Clowes uses the term future anxiety to speak of a creative mentality that strove to assert itself by diminishing the impact of powerful literary precursors, such as Tolstoi, Dostoevsky, and Solovyov, and opening to the imagination the vision of a future full of vast creative possibility. (shrink)

If, as I propose, Hecuba represents fate and Medea contingency, taken together they constitute as well as reveal the tragic within the tension between the ontological and empirical status of man as it is embodied in the clash between necessity and freedom. Viewing this tension within the perspective of the unconditional status of the love of the mother, I will show how both narratives belong to the realm of possibilities and cause, what Ricoeur calls “suffering for the sake of understanding”. (...) I will argue that the phenomenon of the unconditional love of the mother is in itself tragic and open to both the appearance of both Medea and Hecuba. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Tragic Evolutionary Logic of The IliadBrian BoydThe Rape of Troy: Evolution, Violence, and the World of Homer, by Jonathan Gottschall; xii & 223 pp. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008, $32.00 paperback.Jonathan Gottschall has conquered the oldest and craggiest peak of Western literature, The Iliad, by a new face. He stakes out the Darwin route to Homer so directly and clearly that he makes the climb inviting and (...) inspiring even to curious newcomers without high-altitude evolutionary training. And the vista he opens up offers us a chance to look in multiple directions: at Homer, at literary evolutionism and its possibilities, and at Gottschall's role in exploring this new route to discovery.One previous monograph has investigated a single literary work from a Darwinian viewpoint: Brett Cooke's analysis of Evgeny Zamyatin's 1921 science-fiction classic, We.1 Cooke's Human Nature in Utopia, by showing how Zamyatin appeals to the evolved nature of readers, in the face of the denial of human nature in his imagined One State and in early Soviet Communism, deepens our natural response to a modern classic. But where Cooke merely succeeds, Gottschall triumphs. The Rape of Troy not only deepens our response to a classic discussed for almost three millennia but also explains the world of Homer in a way no one could have seen without the multi-million-year perspective evolution allows—and does so with conceptual clarity, tight argument, effortless imagery, and copious verbal energy. [End Page 234]Gottschall emphasizes that his "evolutionary anthropology of conflict in Homeric society" does not attempt a Homeric "theory of everything" (pp. 3, 9). There is much of interest in The Iliad he does not touch on, and much even in possible evolutionary approaches to Homer that he does not consider. He focuses intently on a single two-part question: Why is there so much violence in the Iliad, and what effect does it have on how those in Homeric society see their world?After a brilliant introductory overview, he shows in his first two chapters how over the last century Homerists have increasingly turned to comparative anthropology to augment the meagre direct data. They have clarified that the Iliad was long obscured by later Western assumptions about states and kings, and that the poem probably reflects something like Homer's own world, within (at about 800 BCE) the late Greek Dark Age, a pre-state society in many ways closer to Highland New Guinea than to the worlds of Caesar or Charlemagne.Everyone who knows about the Trojan War knows that the Greeks fight Troy because the Trojan prince Paris took Helen from her husband, the Greek lord Menelaus. But readers of the Iliad want to know why thousands of soldiers on both sides persisted through ten years of brutal battle. Surely war on this scale cannot have been over just a woman? Scholars have proposed many explanations of what was really at stake. Immortal honor for men all too aware, day after bloody day, of their own physical mortality? Power? Status? Material goods? Prestige goods? A chance to neutralize enemies?By drawing on evolutionary biology and anthropology, Gottschall can show that this war, like most human violence against other humans, and even like most intraspecies animal violence, stems ultimately from male competition over females. He introduces the powerful and far-reaching principle of differential parental investment developed by Robert Trivers.2 As Gottschall lucidly elaborates: "males will attempt to mate more promiscuously both because sex is cheaper for them, and because they have the potential to produce many offspring with multiple females. I emphasize the words 'attempt' and 'potential' because if every male adopts a relatively promiscuous strategy, and if some males succeed, then other males will not reproduce at all" (p. 44). The far more divergent rates of reproductive success among males than among females prove to be the key determinant. Gottschall sums up: "males typically face higher risks of total reproductive failure and higher hopes of extraordinary reproductive success. This creates strong incentives to compete for mates. Males who are better able to compete for access to [End Page 235] scarce female reproductive capacity, in whatever form... (shrink)

Living in Words: Literature, Autobiographical Language, and the Composition of Selfhood pursues three main questions: What role does literature play in the constitution of a human being? What is the connection between the language we see at work in imaginative fiction and the language we develop to describe ourselves? And is something more powerful than just description at work -- that is, does self-descriptive or autobiographical language itself play an active role in shaping and solidifying our identities? This (...) adventurous book suggests that interdisciplinary work interweaving philosophy and literature can answer these questions. Main sections investigate the relational model of the self derived from American pragmatism, the sense of rightness that can attach to descriptions of ourselves and our actions, the analogy between interpreting works of art and the interpretation of persons, the special power of literature as a self-compositional tool and the "architecture" of self-narratives and the corresponding growth of self-understanding, what we can learn from cautionary tales concerning the tragic lack of self-knowledge, the possibility of "rewriting" and "rereading" the self, and overall, the assembly of real-life structures of self-definition through our reflective engagement with literature. Throughout, the book develops a model of active, self-constitutive literary reading that provides language for, and sharpens, self-individuation and sensibility. Conjoining a relational conception of selfhood to a narrative conception of self-understanding, Living in Words makes a powerful claim that aesthetic experience and our engagement with the arts is a far more serious matter in human life and society than it in some quarters is taken to be. (shrink)

These hours of backward clearness come to all men and women, once at least, when they read the past in the light of the present, with the reasons of things, like unobserved finger-posts, protruding where they never saw them before. The journey behind them is mapped out, and figured with its false steps, its wrong observations, all its infatuated, deluded geography.Henry James,The Bostonians, ch. xxxixThis paper is intended to contribute to the study of both Homer and Greek tragedy, and more (...) particularly to the study of the influence of the epic upon the later poets. The current revival of interest among English scholars in the poetic qualities of the Homeric poems must be welcomed by all who care for the continuing survival and propagation of classical literature. The renewed emphasis on the validity of literary criticism as applied to presumably oral texts may encourage a more positive appreciation of the subtlety of Homeric narrative techniques, and of the coherent plan which unifies each poem. The aim of this paper is to focus attention on a number of elements in Greek tragedy which are already present in Homer, and especially on the way in which these poets exploit the theme of knowledge—knowledge of one's future, knowledge of one's circumstances, knowledge of oneself. Recent scholarship on tragedy has paid much more attention to literary criticism in general and to poetic irony in particular: these insights can also illuminate the epic. Conversely, the renewed interest in Homer's structural and thematic complexity should also enrich the study of the tragedians, his true heirs. (shrink)

In Ecce Homo, Nietzsche identifies himself with Dionysus. Yet Nietzsche's notorious treatment of his mother in this text reveals a complex relationship to the Dionysian. While many have used the Dionysian to interpret Nietzsche's relation to the maternal, I show that his treatment of his mother illuminates his relation to the Dionysian. Building on an insight in Stanley Cavell's work on love in Shakespeare's King Lear, I show that Nietzsche's attempt to give birth to himself in Ecce Homo imitates his (...) description of the tragic hero in The Birth of Tragedy, making Ecce Homo his tragic performance. (shrink)

A democratic society does not embody a permanent and internally consistent set of values but attempts to accommodate disagreement between incommensurable values. One of the purposes of the law is to manage such disagreement by ensuring that disputes are settled in a way that advances the interests of stability without foreclosing options. In this respect the function of the formal dissenting judgment has been neglected in the English literature. By contrast there is a rich US literature which reveals (...) an ambivalent attitude to the practice of dissent. The article discusses the nature of the disagreements that are predominant in dissenting judgments. It claims that the practise of dissent follows the development of democracy and that the majority of dissents in courts of last resort raise legitimate disagreement about fundamental incommensurable values. These concern disagreements between deontological and consequentialist values, between different conceptions of the legislative powers of the judiciary and between principle and pragmatism. Because the outcome of an appeal is contingent, the dissent may be as important as the majority in identifying the choices to be made and signalling the principles that are immanent in the law. The legal and political basis of the right to publish a dissent is discussed and arguments for and against the publication of dissents considered with the conclusion that constraints on the right to dissent would be self-defeating. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Tragic as an Ethical CategoryRobert GuayTragedy is at the center of Nietzsche's conception of his mature philosophical project as the only alternative to the ascetic ideal, and thus as the only avenue for affirmation. It is not merely an aesthetic category, but one that encompasses the very character of self-determining (or "self-creating") agency. The tragic character of self-determining agency, I shall claim, stems from the conflict between the (...) local, practice-dependent character of our normative commitments and their transcendent purport. My argument will run as such. Becoming what one is, according to Nietzsche, is a matter of taking a particular place in a narrative of self-creation. Such narratives are teleological: they are structured by a kind of directionality (or, more broadly, by "ideals") that cannot, practically, be taken as arbitrary. But these narratives are inevitably incomplete, and so therefore are the norms and selves that depend on them.The very project of a genealogy of morals supports my first claim, that becoming what one is involves a matter of taking a particular place in a narrative of self-creation. 1 The Genealogy of Morals begins with the declaration that we are unknown to ourselves, and the explanation it provides of this shortcoming, that we have never sought ourselves, is expanded by means of a temporal metaphor: the bell-strokes of our life that we do not think to reckon until after they have passed. What we have failed to accomplish, and what the genealogy attempts to recover, is a diachronic account of who we are. This missing story covers the singular as well as the collective "we." The end of the story, Nietzsche [End Page 555] claims, is the "sovereign individual," 2 and this notion is presumably governed by his general claim: "all concepts in which an entire process is semiotically drawn together elude definition; only that which has no history is definable" (GM, 2.13). Of course it does not follow from this that everything indefinable has a history, but the special elusiveness of modern individuality seems due to the complexity of its narrative source. And not only individuality in general, but also the particular individual, seems to have a narrative basis. In the book subtitled "How one becomes what one is," in the section that promises the "real answer to the question, how one becomes what one is" (EH "clever," 9), Nietzsche offers this account of personal development:One must keep the entire surface of consciousness—consciousness is a surface—clean of any great imperatives. Beware even of every great word, every great posture! Sheer danger, that the instinct comes to "understand itself" too soon—meanwhile the organizing "idea" with a calling to rule grows and grows deep down—it begins to command, it slowly heads back from detours and wrong ways, it prepares single qualities and competencies that will one day prove to be indispensable as means to a whole—it in turn trains all subservient faculties before giving any hint of the dominating task, "goal," "end," "meaning."The individual, Nietzsche suggests, cannot be understood in terms of anything available to her consciousness, and not even in terms of any "great imperative" or "great word." Instead Nietzsche accounts for individuality, and in fact his own individuality, in terms of a meaningfulness available in terms of the familiar tropes of journeys and roads, and growing and commanding.This passage from Ecce Homo suggests not merely a narrative, but one with a teleology, even if only a retrospectively apparent one. Narratives of self cannot be random or arbitrary; their meaningfulness depends on the structure provided by some kind of directionality: in Nietzsche's words, a dominant "task" or "goal." This directionality is invoked by Nietzsche, for example, with the "teachers of the purpose of existence" of The Gay Science's opening section and with the famous "formula of our happiness" of The Antichrist's opening section: "a Yes, a No, a straight line, a goal." The Genealogy of Morals provides a general account of this directionality in terms of a "progressus."I would like to say that even partial becoming useless, atrophying and degenerating, loss of meaning and purposiveness, in short... (shrink)

I defend Hume's account of tragic pleasure against various objections. I examine his account of the emotions in order to clarify his "conversion theory". I also argue that Hume does not give us a theory of tragedy as an aesthetic genre, but rather elucidates the felt experience of a particular work of tragedy. I offer a partial reading of King Lear by way of illustration. Finally, I suggest that the experiences of aesthetic pleasure, and aesthetic sadness, share certain qualities. "Tragic (...) pleasure" is possible, in part, because the pity of tragedy is realised through the pleasure of the aesthetic. (shrink)

In _Narcissus Transformed_, Gray Kochhar-Lindgren interprets Narcissus as thematizing the tragic situation of the postmodern subject. After showing the connections between Cartesian philosophy and narcissism, he proceeds to lay out the function of Narcissus as a poetic figure of discourse in the fields of psychoanalysis and modern fiction. He moves beyond the description of narcissism to an interpretation of the conditions necessary for Narcissus, the beautiful boy captivated by his own image, to become a different kind of subject. The topos (...) of narcissism, which is first articulated by Ovid, always includes within itself a mirror, a gap, self-referential desire, and death—all of which culminate in Narcissus's inability to make space for an Other. Kochhar-Lindgren contends that this is the founding topos of modern philosophy, which is then incorporated into and transmuted by the disciplines of psychoanalysis and fiction. With the extensive work of Freud on narcissism, it becomes a central concept for psychoanalysis; and with Lacan's interpretation of the narcissist as phantom, statue, and automaton, narcissism moves into a specifically textual interpretation of subjectivity. Kochhar-Lindgren then provides close readings of fictional texts-—_The Waves_ by Virginia Woolf, _The Ogre _by Michel Tournier, and _Daniel Martin_ by John Fowles—to show more explicitly the textual construction of the narcissistic subject and to suggest ways that Narcissus might be transformed into a subject not held in thrall to the "glassy-eyed stare of Thanatos." He concludes with an enactment, from a Lacanian and fictional perspective, of the beginnings of the undoing of the narcissistic topos of contemporary culture. Narcissus steps from the self-reflective mirror into a theater; he stops longing to be a purely self-reflexive work in order to become part of the play of a text. (shrink)

This book offers a unique interpretation of tragic literature in the Western tradition, deploying the method and style of Analytic philosophy. Richard Gaskin argues that tragic literature seeks to offer moral and linguistic redress for suffering. Moral redress involves the balancing of a protagonist's suffering with guilt : Gaskin contends that, to a much greater extent than has been recognized by recent critics, traditional tragedy represents suffering as incurred by avoidable and culpable mistakes of a cognitive nature. Moral (...) redress operates in the first instance at the level of the individual agent. Linguistic redress, by contrast, operates at a higher level of generality, namely at the level of the community: its fundamental motor is the sheer expressibility of suffering in words. Against many writers on tragedy, Gaskin argues that language is competent to express pain and suffering, and that tragic literature has that expression as one its principal purposes. The definition of tragic literature in this book is expanded to include more than stage drama: the treatment stretches from the Classical and Medieval periods through to the early twentieth century. There is a special focus on Sophocles, but Gaskin takes account of most other major tragic authors in the European tradition, including Homer, Aeschylus, Euripides, Virgil, Seneca, Chaucer, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Corneille, Racine, Lessing, Goethe, Schiller, Kleist, Büchner, Ibsen, Hardy, Kafka, and Mann; lesser-known areas, such as Renaissance neo-Latin tragedy, are also covered. Among theorists of tragedy, Gaskin concentrates on Aristotle and Bradley; but the contributions of numerous contemporary commentators are also assessed. Tragedy and Redress in Western Literature: A Philosophical Perspective offers a new and genuinely interdisciplinary perspective on tragedy that will be of considerable interest both to philosophers of literature and to literary critics. (shrink)

Originally published in Norwegian in 1941, this is the magnum opus of one of Norway's most celebrated philosophers, now made available in English for the first time. It examines the concept of the tragic and attempts to construct a more precise and useful definition, on the basis of a "biosophical" look at the situation of organisms in their environment and their attempt to realize interests on multiple fronts through abilities they possess in a variety of degrees. This is a theory (...) of genius, and of the dangers that frequently accompany it, and a sober account of the perils of consciousness for the human species. The robust and thorough treatment includes in-depth analysis of the relationship between real-world tragedies and those portrayed in theater and literature. This widely anticipated translation will be of interest to academics as well as to all readers who are interested in philosophical pessimism and tragedy. (shrink)

The force of [Heinrich von] Kleist's story "On the Marionette Theatre" . . . derives from roots deeply sunk into the soil of the past. It is a novel variation on a theme the first author of which may well be Plato. For according to Plato the human mind has been in the dark ever since it lost its place in the community of Truth, in the realm, that is, of the Ideas, the eternal and eternally perfect forms, those now (...) unattainable models which man in his exile is able to see and recognize only as shadows or imperfect copies. And this Platonic parable of the damage suffered by man's soul and consciousness is not unlike the Fall as it is narrated in Genesis. The Fall was the consequence and punishment of man's free will that for the first time had asserted itself against the universal God and rejoiced in a consciousness and pleasure entirely its own—tragically its own; for man had to forsake the indwelling in the supreme Intelligence and thus the harmony between himself and Being as such. The reward for this betrayal was the embarrassment and shame of self-consciousness, the hard labor of maintaining himself in his state of separation, and, soon to follow, the murderous misdeeds of the self-will named Cain. Better to have no mind than a mind thus deprived and impoverished and cruel. Erich Heller, Avalon Foundation Professor in the Humanities at Northwestern University, is the author of The Disinherited Mind: Essays in Modern German Literature and Thought; The Ironic Gentleman: Thomas Mann; The Artist's Journey into the Interior; and Franz Kafka. These books have also appeared in Germany in the author's own translations, and his Dir Wiederkehr der Unschuld [The return of innocence] was recently published there. See also: "Fiction, History, and Empirical Reality" by Murray Krieger in Vol. 1, No. 2; "Psychoanalysis and the Marionette Theater: Interpretation is Not Depreciation" by Margret Schaefer in Vol. 5, No. 1. (shrink)

Can literature help us in a time of crisis? Yes, in many and unexpected ways, as Simone Weil’s literary work shows. Reading Weil’s unfinished tragedy Venice Saved in the context of her poetry, philosophy and politics, we argue that it is an example of literary work that can engender transformation, for three reasons: its presentation and encouragement of attention to beauty; its tragic tension, forcing a deeper vision of the world; and its use of the poetic word. These elements, (...) we conclude, make literature a prime tool for inner and outer transformation, especially when everything seems to be lost. (shrink)

Machine generated contents note: Introduction; Part I. Theoretical Views about Pity and Fear as Aesthetic Emotions: 1. Drama and the emotions: an Indo-European connection? 2. Gorgias: a strange trio, the poetic emotions; 3. Plato: from reality to tragedy and back; 4. Aristotle: the first 'theorist' of the aesthetic emotions; Part II. Pity and Fear within Tragedies: 5. An introduction; 6. Aeschylus: Persians; 7. Prometheus Bound; 8. Sophocles: Ajax; 9. Euripides: Orestes; Appendix: catharsis and the emotions in the definition of tragedy (...) in the Poetics. (shrink)

In postwar Western culture, the myth of Antigone has been the subject of noted literary, literary-critical, dramatic, philosophical, and philological treatments, not least due to the strong influence of one of the key plays of the twentieth century, Jean Anouilh’s Antigone. The rich discussion of the myth has often dealt with its most famous formulation, Sophocles’ Antigone, but has paid less attention to the broader ancient context; the epic sources (the Iliad, Odyssey, Thebaid, and Oedipodea); the other tragic versions (Aeschylus’s (...) Seven Against Thebes and his lost Eleusinians; Euripides’s Suppliants, Phoenician Women, and Antigone, of which only a few short fragments have been preserved); and the responses of late antiquity. This paper analyses the basic features of this nearly thousand-year-long ancient tradition and shows how they connect in surprising ways – sometimes even more directly than Sophoclean tragedy does – with the main issues in some unique contemporary traditions of its reception (especially the Slovenian, Polish and Argentine ones): the question of burying the wartime (or postwar) dead and the ideal of reconciliation. (shrink)

Although both the ancient classical forms of tragedy and the nihilist tendencies of postmodern writing are marked by paralysis and passivity before fate, more religiously influenced periods of English literature are characterised by self-transcending and self-transforming movement beyond tragic impotence. This insight is illustrated briefly through references to Shakespeare's King Lear but it can also be found in Dante and in less explicitly Christian authors. The wisdom of humility exemplified in these literary masterpieces with a religious background embodies an (...) implicit theology of redemption, whereby evil can ultimately be transfigured into good. (shrink)

Literature of an autobiographical character acquires a special significance in the world of the bloody tragic events of the 20th century, i.e. the Holocaust, the Second World War, the realities of the Nazi and Soviet totalitarianisms, death camps, and forced labour. Those are the recollections of experienced trauma which shatters identity, and of existential experiences of a borderline nature, of which Shalamov, a witness to the epoch, felt an obligation to talk. An anthropological analysis of Varlam Shalamov’s short story (...) titled Artificial Limbs, Etc. enables one to grasp the role of memory and autobiographical testimony as a kind of cultural and literary antidote to silence and memory distorted by the Soviet totalitarianism. The author of Kolyma Tales offered a faithful description of a world outside the‘human’ world, one which was almost impossible to describe due to its inherent moral void, level of violence, and fear of the authorities who made people forget about the crimes, victims, and oppressors. (shrink)

The article surveys various potential sources for Dostoevsky’s knowledge of the Faust legend, examines a range of arts, from literature to music, and focuses on the novel of Friedrich Maximilian Klinger as an important influence for Dostoevsky as the writer interacts with Faustian themes in The Brothers Karamazov on both literary and meta-literary levels. Klinger’s novel is considered in terms of the problems of epistemology and the limits of human cognition, problems rooted in finiteness as a defining characteristic of (...) human nature. In the literary worlds of Klinger and Dostoevsky, the attempts to establish limited human cognition as unlimited, essentially divine, and capable of grasping the entire picture of the existence of both the individual human being and humanity as a whole cause unforeseen and tragic consequences. The article treats the Faustian musical scene in The Adolescent as a variation on the relevant scene in Gounod’s Faust, exploring similar epistemological problems. The article claims that Dostoevsky grants his characters and readers the same degree of freedom in exploring the nature of their cognitive processes and in choosing the voice they decide to listen to and follow. (shrink)

Writers of fiction have always confronted topics of crime and punishment. This age-old fascination with crime on the part of both authors and readers is not surprising, given that criminal justice touches on so many political and psychological themes essential to literature, and comes equippedwith a trial process that contains its own dramatic structure. This volume explores this profound and enduring literary engagement with crime, investigation, and criminal justice. The collected essays explore three themes that connect the world of (...) law with that of fiction. First, defining and punishing crime is one of the fundamental purposes of government,along with the protection of victims by the prevention of crime. And yet criminal punishment remains one of the most abused and terrifying forms of political power. Second, crime is intensely psychological and therefore an important subject by which a writer can develop and explore character. Athird connection between criminal justice and fiction involves the inherently dramatic nature of the legal system itself, particularly the trial. Moreover, the ongoing public conversation about crime and punishment suggests that the time is ripe for collaboration between law and literature in thistroubled domain.The essays in this collection span a wide array of genres, including tragic drama, science fiction, lyric poetry, autobiography, and mystery novels. The works discussed include works as old as fifth-century BCE Greek tragedy and as recent as contemporary novels, memoirs, and mystery novels. Thecumulative result is arresting: there are "killer wives" and crimes against trees; a government bureaucrat who sends political adversaries to their death for treason before falling to the same fate himself; a convicted murderer who doesn't die when hanged; a psychopathogical collector whose quitesane kidnapping victim nevertheless also collects; Justice Thomas' reading and misreading of Bigger Thomas; a man who forgives his son's murderer and one who cannot forgive his wife's non-existent adultery; fictional detectives who draw on historical analysis to solve murders. These essays begin aconversation, and they illustrate the great depth and power of crime in literature. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Literature, Imagination, and Human RightsWillie van Peer“the poet’s function is to describe, not the thing that has happened, but a kind of thing that might happen”Aristotle: Poetics, 1451aAristotle’s dictum has been of vital importance to the development of literary theory, and its significance can still be felt today. It is the foundation of the distinction we make between journalism and literature, between history and fiction. Literature, (...) Aristotle proposes, is about things that could happen, not about things that have taken place in reality. Literature is thus inscribed in the realm of the imagination. However, imagination does not operate in an epistemological vacuum. A fictional text entertaining no relation with the world would have no meaning. Perhaps giants, dragons and witches do not really exist, and perhaps it is not really possible to cover seven miles with each step of those wonderful boots that Tom Thumb discovered. But we have no difficulty in imagining those things, precisely because they entertain an intimate relationship with forms and things, events and actions that happen in daily life. The details of the relationship between reality and fiction are less important for the present argument than the fact that fiction is embedded in our pragmatic attitudes. 1 Ernst Bloch has given this human tendency a name: The Hope Principle. Our desire for a better world expresses itself in hope, a distinctive feature of the species Homo Sapiens. The importance of the imagination in the project of humanity has received eloquent and systematic treatment in the philosophical work of Hans Vaihinger and Helmuth Plessner. 2 Imagination also gives impetus to history, because it drives us toward the realization of aims and plans that initially lived only in our hearts and minds: “Someone dreaming never remains in the same place.” 3 [End Page 276]Similar things have been asserted about literature, by Horace, Sidney, Matthew Arnold, and others. Reading is supposed to make us better humans, heightening our awareness, increasing our sensibility, and thus indirectly guiding our actions toward the establishment of a better world. Sometimes noble motives are associated with this function. Reading literature, it is then assumed, makes the reader more socially tolerant, more perceptive about other humans, and more politically conscious. This is the so-called Edification Hypothesis. Anthony Savile sums up this view when he submits the thesis that literature has a unique power to make us understand the thoughts and feelings of other human beings. This ethical perspective on literature has been expressed since Greek Antiquity. 4 It will be remembered that Plato condemned literature precisely for this reason: because it diverts our attention from the real world, itself already an imperfect reflection of Pure Ideas. Aristotle rejects this view and develops a theory squarely opposed to that of his teacher. According to him, literature contributes to the elevation of mankind, to paideia. By showing us that which is possible, and by involving us in the inescapable passage of tragic events, readers and spectators are drawn into emotions of fear and compassion, emotions that lead to katharsis, a process that purifies us of megalomania (hubris), safeguarding democratic government and protecting us from unrestrained tyranny. 5The Aristotelian view that literature has an edifying effect had been generally present in Western tradition till about 1800. Until then literature was viewed almost universally as an ethical category. Consider, for instance, the self-evident way in which Richardson prefaces Pamela: “If to divert and entertain, and at the same time to instruct and improve the minds of the YOUTH of both sexes: If to inculcate religion and morality in so easy and agreeable a manner, as shall render them equally delightful and profitable: If to set forth in the most exemplary lights, the parental, the filial, and the social duties....” 6The embarrassment a modern reader may feel when confronted with such overt claims to morality is largely a product of the nineteenth century, when literature came to be seen as a predominantly aesthetic category, eluding all attempts at moral categorization. This movement has resulted in a liberation of literature from moralism. At the same time, it has created nontrivial difficulties in thinking about ethical and political issues, so... (shrink)

Le mosche del capitale [The Flies of Capital] is Volponi’s last novel, and it is inspired by autobiographical events, which are depicted at a historical level. The end of a progressist industrial paradigm entails the end of social conflicts (i.e., the end of the working class) and the passage from manufactured capital to financial capital. The pervasiveness reached by capital is criticized through some formal choices that ridicule the language of power and the subjugation of the managers to it. The (...) main objective of this paper is to show how Volponi depicts a double breakdown: on the one hand, and in dramatic forms, the breakdown of the working class; on the other hand, and in comic forms, the breakdown of industry. (shrink)

A sequel to his New Apologists, this latest work sees the "tragic vision" as the Dionysian component of tragedy, in an irreducible tension with the ethical or Apollonian: a conflict characterizing the modern "crisis-mentality" of literature and existentialism. Gide, Kafka, and Melville, are contrasted with D. H. Lawrence, Camus, Dostoevsky, and others in a very illuminating manner.--D. C. B.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:164 BOOK REVIEWS the " causes and remedies " of homosexuality (this entails a guarded challenge to the notion of " constitutional " homosexuality) and a special outreach to people with AIDS; a long endnote undertakes to defend the thesis that AIDS can sometmies he, at least in a qualified sense, divine punishment for sexual sin (p. 110 n. 4). Ashley's essay concludes with an apology for any unintended (...) offense resulting from imprecise or otherwise infelicitous expressions of his position; and he suggests that such lapses on the part of the CDF letter itself were " inevitable in a document that had to he brief and directly to the point in order to clear up the ambiguities with which this complex question has been obscured" (p. 109). My personal assessment is that Ashley has succeeded much better than CDF in minimizing such problems; he might have been even more successful had he not been so intent on downplaying or excusing the letter's undeniable faults in this regard. Of course, Ashley is here engaging in debate with the Vatican's critics; were he instead directly addressing CDF, his approach might well have been different. Even in the present context, however, as a better gesture toward gay and lesbian people wounded by the letter's simplistic and harsh prescriptions, it would have been well for Ashley to repeat the observation he once addressed to U.S. and Canadian bishops assembled in Dallas for a sexuality workshop (Feb. 2-6, 1981): "Overfacile solutions to the tragic dilemmas of life which people are experiencing make the Church appear smug and silly." The debate over this issue will continue, as indeed it must. The participants in this hook, notwithstanding problems on either side, have contributed significantly to the ongoing conversation and have set a high standard which we must hope will he emulated by all who carry the conversation forward. Pontifical, University of St. Thomas Rome, Italy BRUCE WILLIAMS, O.P. Perplexity in the Moral Life: Philosophical and Theological Considerations. By EDMUND N. SANTURRI. Charlottesville, Va.: The University Press of Virginia, 1988. Pp. 256. $35.00. Edmund Santurri has written an important book about a central issue in moral theory and a fundamental problem in the moral life. On occasion, one feels on the horns of a dilemma. Whatever course of action might he taken, it appears as if wrong will he done in the process of doing right. Thus, we want to keep promises, but if we keep BOOK REVIEWS 165 this promise, we will cause or allow some great harm to come to an· other person. How ought this sort of dilemma to he understood? Santurri argues that there are within the traditions of moral philosophy and theology two ways of construing the problem. One can say either that moral dilemmas of the sort Santurri discusses are the re· sult of deficient knowledge and so in principle resolvable, or that they stem from the structure of the moral universe itself and are in consequence not resolvable. It is Santurri's contention that Christian ethics must hold to the former position and defend the view that in all dilemmatic contexts there is a way to dispel moral perplexity through more adequate moral knowledge. In order to establish this thesis he undertakes a review of typical philosophical and theological literature that addresses the problem he has identified. Santurri's review of the philosophical literature, though on occasion unnecessarily dense, is always competent and generally thorough. Among others, he reviews the work of David Lyons, Bernard Williams, and Thomas Nagel. His conclusion is that philosophical argument can establish neither of the two possible views of moral dilemma as superior to the other. Arguments designed to establish both points of view prove inconclusive in the end because they beg more fundamental ques· tions concerning the content, nature, and function of morality itself. Thus, Santurri argues that moral perplexity cannot he interpreted adequately apart from a discussion of " certain fundamental questions of moral ontology " (p. 4), and he quite successfully shows that these questions are passed over or inadequately treated in the philosophical literature. The fundamental questions he lists are these: Are moral codes simply systems of convention or do these... (shrink)

Is it possible to be both modern and tragic? Kierkegaard’s modern Antigone, the figure he creates as an exemplar of the modern tragic, is generally taken to be an endorsement of the tragic as an aesthetic ideal, but this overlooks the cautionary elements in Kierkegaard’s essay, “The Tragic,” in Either/Or. Tracing the limits he imposes, I argue that Kierkegaard is acutely aware that his Antigone, the heroine he puts forward, is trapped precisely by her desire to be a tragic figure, (...) which in turn forces a sacrifice of who she is. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Genres in Dialogue: Plato and the Construct of PhilosophyDavid EngelAndrea Wilson Nightingale. Genres in Dialogue: Plato and the Construct of Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. xiv + 222 pp. Cloth, $57.95.The old saw "Everybody's a comedian" has its counterpart in contemporary academia: "Everybody's a philosopher." Biologists. Psychologists. Linguists. Physicists. Anthropologists. Historians. Even jurists. Many scholars of comparative literature, English, and history can be heard describing what (...) they do, not as literary criticism or history, but as "philosophy." One may even wonder whether we need philosophy departments anymore. Philosophy's private domain has shrunk from what it was under Aristotle (just about every subject short of wagon repair) to its present emaciated condition: it can claim almost nothing for itself alone. The other disciplines have encroached upon it bit by bit. This book is a timely contribution to an important current issue: what is philosophy, [End Page 316] and what does it have to offer? Nightingale argues that Plato faced similar questions. Rhetoricians, tragedians, and comedians all peddled what they had to say as wise (sophon), while dismissing other claims and pursuits as foolishness or worse. Against them and their respective discourses Plato proposed a new candidate: philosophia.Prior to Plato, philosophia meant just "intellectual cultivation." According to Nightingale, it was Plato who made it into a full-blown discipline--or, as she says, invented the discourse. As a way of privileging philosophia (in Plato's new sense of the word) above rival discourses, he parodied them. Nightingale's claims about the parody of other genres and Plato's privileging of philosophia are novel, insightful, and very persuasive. Perhaps it is overstatement to credit Plato with inventing philosophy, but that hardly diminishes the overall impression of this fine book's main arguments.Among Plato's contemporaries, the foremost challenger for the title "practitioner (and teacher) of sophia" was Isocrates. Nightingale uses his Antidosis to show that (1) Isocrates wanted to claim philosophia for himself, and (2) his version of philosophia was significantly different from Plato's. She concludes that the term was still a subject of genuine contention: its meaning mattered to both Plato and Isocrates. As Isocrates advocates rhetorike as philosophia, Plato argues that philosophy is both different from rhetoric and better than rhetoric. Rhetoric aims, ultimately, at public utility as the public perceives that utility, and rhetoric's value is gauged only by the political influence of those who practice it. Plato rejects that entire value system. At bottom it is also the value system of the other genres which, as Nightingale persuasively shows, Plato also parodies.Plato's "parody" (Nightingale's use of the word is broad, but unexceptionable) is "a device for defining and privileging his own pursuits" (59). Moving from rhetoric to tragedy, she considers Gorgias' echoes of Euripides' Antiope. Plato's parody of tragedy subtly criticizes tragedy qua discourse. The tragedian is "ignorant of truth... imitating appearances... gratifying the multitude... fostering the inferior part of the soul," that is, he is precisely what the philosopher is not (67). Socrates and Callicles evoke Euripidean characters: respectively, Amphion (who advocates a private life devoted to the liberal arts) and Zethus (who argues for a life of political activity) (69-70). Plato's unambiguous allusions to Antiope juxtapose not only Socrates and Callicles (and, through them, two irreconcilable views of what philosophy is) but also the tragic hero and the philosophical one (72-73). Plato's "life of the mind for its own sake" orientation wins, ultimately, in both comparisons. Furthermore, just as Amphion's arguments fail to persuade Zethus in Antiope but are eventually vindicated by Hermes' appearance at the play's conclusion, so too Socrates' arguments fail to convince Callicles, and Gorgias' concluding underworld myth parallels Antiope's deus ex machina: affirmation that the view which had been rejected (Amphion's and Socrates') was right, after all (87-88). [End Page 317]Nightingale then examines encomium. Publicly performed epitaphioi and their fictive counterparts (e.g., Menexenus) influenced one another, and the techniques of the encomium, although salient in that genre, occurred elsewhere, including deliberative and forensic situations. In her view, Plato's concern is not narrowly with encomium... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Discover the Unknown Chekhov in Your ESL ClassroomNinah Beliavsky (bio)I was born in Moscow, ate aladushki, and listened to my mother read Chekhov in Russian. Kashtanka, a tale about a young, ginger-colored pup who gets lost, made me cry. And when I read about the death of Ivan Dmitrich Kreepikov, in The Death of a Civil Servant, I did not know whether to laugh or to cry. The poor (...) civil servant was sitting and watching an opera in a theater when all of a sudden he sneezed and spattered an old gentlemen, General Shpitzalov, in front of him. Now, as Chekhov writes, sneezing is not prohibited to any one or in any place; peasants sneeze, and even the chiefs of police sneeze. But, you see, the poor civil servant, being very much rank-conscious, could no longer live with himself after committing such a misconduct. He apologized profusely and went home, and without taking off his uniform, he lay down on the sofa, and... died.And what about Van'ka Zhukov, an orphan boy of nine apprenticed to a shoemaker who is being beaten and overworked. He writes a letter to his grandfather on Christmas Eve, begging him for the dear Lord's sake to take him away from his misery. After scratching his head and thinking for a moment, he dips his pen in ink and addresses his envelope: "The Village. To Grand Dad." He then dashes out into the street and pushes his precious letter through the opening of the postbox...The second part of my childhood I spent in Jerusalem; there I ate falafel with humus, was obsessed with perfecting the pronunciation of the Hebrew guttural "r," and read Miriam Yalan Shtekelis's children's poetry, which was filled with magical objects that laughed and cried. By the time I was in high school I was living in Milwaukee, eating fries and ice cream sundaes and reading O. Henry.The literature that one comes in contact with during childhood and young [End Page 101] adulthood is often deeply engraved on a person's psyche. It is similar to an adult craving sweets because of the psychological association with her childhood and a safe and protected environment. We tend to think back to the "good old days" because we find comfort in our past. Today, as an adult, a wife, and a mother, I often find refuge in my childhood memories. And, like most people, much of what I encounter and read today I tend to associate with my past. If I come across a story that I heard in my childhood, as I search for something new and amusing to give to my college English-as-a-Second-Language (ESL) students, I try to incorporate it into my curriculum. A few years ago I came across the story The Necklace by Guy de Mappassant and immediately recalled reading it in my adolescence. This story brought back the warm memories of home that I felt would be understood and identified with by my foreign students. Today, this story is one of my students' favorites. By using stories from my own past, I feel that I can bring to my class discussions a unique perspective—my own recollections and feelings and an interpretation not only academic in nature but also personal. Often, my international students will recall hearing or reading some of the same stories (that I bring to class) in their childhood, in their native tongues, and thus these stories will not seem out of context anymore because there will be a sense of connection.I teach ESL to college students—reading and writing at the intermediate and advanced levels. Aside from following the standard curriculum of using grammar and writing textbooks, I bring to my ESL classes music, opera, art, young adult novels by American writers, and short stories by both international and American writers. For instance, my students enjoy reading O. Henry's "The Christmas Present," "The Last Leaf," and "The Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen." These stories are about real people—just like my students—they are about everyday events, they are humorous and tragic in nature, and they have an unexpected twist... (shrink)

Aims of education: historicism and In the castle of my skin -- The meaning of life and Black lightning -- The inner radiance of the shelf in Palace of the peacock -- Knowledge and human understanding in A house for Mr Biswas -- Existentialism and The children of Sisyphus -- Tragic vision in Wide Sargasso Sea -- African conceptions of a person and Myal -- The law of karma in Sastra -- The moralty of reparations in Salt -- Plato versus (...) Kincaid?: A reading of The autobiography of my mother. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 26.2 (2002) 260-272 [Access article in PDF] Tragic Conflict and Greatness of Character Ariel Meira IT IS A SURPRISING FACT that some of our best literary examples of greatness of character are of persons acting in a way that involves them in a terrible burden of guilt. As spectators we perceive Oedipus, in Sophocles's Oedipus the King, 1 as one who upon discovering the identity (...) of his father and mother affirms that he bears guilt for killing the former and committing incest with the latter, and we typically concur in some vague way with his affirmation. 2 We do not, after all, think that his affirmation is merely the consequence of some confusion about morals on his part, and that he would have been more justified in treating his discovery with a light conscience. Furthermore, it seems that our conception of his greatness is intimately bound up with our being acquainted with him as someone who acted so as to render himself profoundly guilty in this way. What is paradoxical is that moral taint would be expected to reduce our admiration for a character and our attribution of greatness to it. Why then should noteworthy paradigms of greatness of character be morally tainted characters? Can we make sense of the idea that some kinds of guiltiness might be constitutive of greatness of character?As it is well-known, Aristotle says that in order for a tragedy best to achieve its desired effect, it should portray a protagonist "who is not pre-eminent in moral virtue, who passes to bad fortune not through vice or wickedness, but because of some hamartia...." 3 The term "hamartia" is variously translated as "piece of ignorance," "miscalculation," and "error of judgment," but as O. B. Hardison notes, it must be treated as designating a moral flaw, because it renders the protagonist [End Page 260] less than "pre-eminent in moral virtue." 4 However, even if the term is interpreted as covering what I have described as the moral taint associated with greatness of character, it should be clear that Aristotle does not provide here an answer to my question. At best he can be viewed as explaining why morally tainted characters of this sort are crucial to achieving tragic effect. He is not explaining how it is that such characters can be viewed as paradigms of greatness.I propose not to treat this paradox in its most general form, but rather by confining my attention to an interesting subclass of cases. What I have in mind are cases in which a protagonist finds himself or herself in what I shall call circumstances of tragic conflict. Such circumstances determine that a choice must be made between two (or perhaps more) courses of action, even though each of the courses involves the violation of an important moral claim, or the destruction of a crucial value. As spectators or readers, we typically perceive the protagonist as emerging with a heavy burden of guilt (much in the way noted above regarding Oedipus), and we recognize that he or she was bound to emerge guilty, no matter which course of action would have been chosen. Cases such as that of Agamemnon (bearing guilt for the sacrifice of his daughter Iphigenia in Aeschylus's Agamemnon), 5 of Jephthah (again bearing guilt for the sacrifice of his daughter, in Judges 11), 6 and of Orestes (bearing guilt for the murder of his mother Clytemnestra in Euripides's Orestes) 7 belong quite uncontroversially to this subclass. 8These protagonists make difficult choices, and carry them out with courage and resolution, qualities which explain to some extent our perception of them as possessing greatness of character. But in making their choice, they necessarily render themselves guilty, whether or not they have made the correct choice (assuming there is a correct choice in the circumstances). And we sense that suffering the peculiarly poignant pain which accompanies their guilty action is at least partly constitutive of their greatness. Clearly, we are faced again with the paradox of the association of guilt with greatness of character.In... (shrink)

The notion of double consciousness, as a characterization of black subjectivity, is basic to Ménil’s critique of the alienated “mythologies” of Antillean life and its self-exoticizing literature. Double consciousness renders cultural identity deeply problematic. But it has other, more positive, manifestations, closer to a Bakhtinian idea of dialogism. Thus he praises Césaire’s use of irony as a dual voice. Ménil’s valorization of complexity and ambiguity in literature, against the simple naturalism favoured by the Communist Party but which he (...) insists is not a truly Marxist position, is thus linked to his view of the necessary “doubleness” of Antillean consciousness. Conversely, the simplicity of folklore can offer a basis for cultural identity, but not for good literature. Although Ménil emphasizes the importance of Antilleans reclaiming their history, this is less about discovering one’s roots than providing a dynamic grasp of one’s ever-changing place in a social reality governed by the Marxist dialectic. “Double consciousness” precludes the comforts of fixed identities, but it is a dialectical, not a tragic condition. (shrink)