Okay, so, this isn't quite entirely a digression or splinter, but still: The hardest book I have ever read, and thus utterly failed to finish, is all of one hundred sixty-nine pages, including notes, bibliography, and index.
I shite thee not. Every one of those pages, even setting aside the words from Arabic, reads like a foreign language.
No, really, I've had the book for fourteen years and never been able to comprehend it well enough to finish. It is essentially a professor emeritus summarizing a thesis derived from something he noticed at some point in his career and then just couldn't let go of because it keeps coming up. And that's actually the reason I keep trying to read it; something about it just keeps coming up in the world.
And it's a book about religion in which virtually nothing is actually a matter of fact other than it is a fact that this is what the record says, or, it is a fact that this object exists at this point in space. That is to say, there is a story that coincides with this place, and this place is right here.
I've recounted this tidbit countless times, but I'll do so again: Douglas Hofstadter (in
G.E.B, I think) recounts how his uncle, Albert Hofstadter--a noted Heidegger scholar and translator--would often try to get Douglas into Heidegger. Douglas, whom I have a lot more respect for than Daniel Dennett, notes that to this day, he can't make any sense whatsoever out of Heidegger. And he's a brilliant guy, it's simply that his mind doesn't work that way.
An awful lot of people (and I won't point fingers) don't seem to appreciate this.
For me, Maturana and Varela's
The Tree of Knowledge is like this. There's something there, and it often seems relevant to whatever it is that I am thinking about, but I just can't quite... get it.
For the moment, I would recall a discussion in which an associate noted Devil's Advocate in order to grant that God exists. Something about the point, in the moment, felt really pretentious, and I think it is because the only reason one needs to "grant" anything is that they are operating according to terms that require them to do so.
This provides a contrast to a notion I refer to fairly regularly, the psychoanalytic meaning of history; and it would behoove us to attend the fact that this phrase comes from a classicist.
Wait--what does this have to do with social stratification? (Sorry, couldn't resist.)
Because, okay, if you're familiar with J. G. Frazier, The Golden Bough, a 1922 tome on the cult at Nemi and ceremonial magick, imagine compressing all of that—my copy runs 864 pages, including index—compressed into an examination of pre-Islamic myth that runs a thin one hundred sixty-nine pages, including notes, bibliography, and index. Jaroslav Stetkevych, Muhammad and the Golden Bough: Reconstructing Arabian Myth (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana Univ. Press, 1996), is nigh on impossible.
The thing is, one need not grant shite in order to comprehend the basic process: This is a literary criticism built from what scraps the historical record provides, and does function as an artistic critique reflecting the psychoanalytic meaning of history. At no point does the question of God's existence matter a whit. Artistic, generally, or more particularly literary, or even historical criticism are reasonably appropriate and require no Devil's Advocates.
Can you imagine all of the disciplines--mostly in the social sciences, but also including literary criticism, strains of philosophy, etc.--that simply would not exist were everybody wholly incapable, or unwilling, to indulge? That's not what i really mean to say, but it really has more to do with a critical examination of one's presuppositions and the willingness to abandon such.
Vicki Hearne is the one writer who has exerted the most influence upon how i think. Her work pre-dates what is now called
Animal Studies, or
Critical Animal Studies, which incorporate everything from ethology to biological sciences and neuroscience to psychoanalysis, literary and cultural criticism, and philosophy (mostly Continental but also the more thought-prone strains of Analytic, from Wittgenstein to Stanley Cavell to Cora Diamond).
This work demands a suspension, especially amongst academic types who typically have little or no real world experience working with animals, and a coming to appreciate their cultural manifestations (from games and politics to arts and music, and even something akin to religion).
This really demands a letting go of the prescribed assumptions.
And, yeah, there's really no need for Devil's Advocacy, or the granting of powers, faculties, attributes--just the simple acknowledgement that Morgan's Canon is as much a "law" as is Occam's Razor (it ain't, and it often stifles critical thinking and the necessary blind leaps).
Toward another aspect, it's my general, not especially refined understanding such that I regard the very word mysticism as derived from mysterium, which, to me, essentially coincides with, say, the idea of an ultimate truth. The relationship 'twixt mysticism and sketpticism seems apparent, but I haven't any subtstantial psychoanalysis of that particular historical evolution. Something like mysticism as an empathy or sympathy toward notions of system and relationship, anthropomorphized as such because that is what people do; skepticism often seems an assertion of control against uncertain perception—perhaps even imagination—of irresolute system. I don't know, call it a quick thumbnail sketch on matchbook cardboard.
It's like, I wonder how many evangelical Atheists who read the fiction of Steven Brust have figured out the secret of Adrilankha and environs.
In "The Etiquette of Freedom," Gary Snyder describes how "will"and "wild" have a common derivation, yet have come to mean something almost wholly antithetical to one another. Especially in such contexts where they're trying, or pretending, to be real precise-like.