If 'God' is just a
word, do I mean by that it is only poetic? Well not quite. What I mean is that
it can't be thought in terms of denotation (or even its supposed opposite
connotation). An idea means something, which then has a reference to reality.
Such a reference might be tortuous (which is what connotation is), but in the
end it does refer to something. In Kant, for example, the idea of God has its
ultimate reference in the subject. The word, however, does not denote or connote. It is not a reference, but a practice.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
A Word
A
word names a thing, but it not that thing; rather, it is the absence of the
thing. As Mallarmé famously
writes about the flower.
I say: a flower! and outside the oblivion to which my voice relegates any shape, insofar as it is something other than the calyx, there arises musically, as the very idea and delicate, the one absent from every bouquet.
So words have a way of maintaining the
absence of something they name without at the same time as negating them. When
Blanchot says that in literature the word 'cat' does not mean cat, he does not mean that it is something
else, rather it isn't anything at all. What it denotes is ambiguous and
indistinct, and this is what happens to language generally in literature. When
I say that what it denotes is ambiguous, I do not mean that it has a ambiguous
denotation, which can, in a second moment, be made clear and distinct, but that
ambiguity ruins its denotation. The consequence of this is devastating. It would mean that every interpretation is false. There can be no truth of literature. As soon as we say literature means this (and for 'this' substitute any interpretation that stands outside of the text, like, for example, Kafka's The Trial is about modern alienation), then we have betrayed its unsettling absence. I imagine literature as a rat eating away at the heart of sense.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
A Religion of Ethics
You can have a
religion of ethics that is not a religion of morality, but it is really
difficult to separate them out, and the closest I have come to say what it
might mean is that in the religion of ethics God is a word and not an idea. The greatest difficulty is not distinguishing between a being and an idea, but between an idea and a word. Of course words and ideas are in some sense inseparable, but it depends on what one concentrates on. A word is not just an expression of something, it is also a performance, a ritual and a relation to others. It is the speaking rather than what is said that is the important thing.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Beyond Morality: Levinas and Ontology
It is one of the
most important lessons to take from reading Levinas that it is not directly about morality; that
is to say, it has nothing at all to do with values. This does not mean that
there is no relation between ethics and values, but it is not a foundational
one. I do not think this is unique to Levinas. I would say the same about
the Stoics, Spinoza or even Heidegger and Deleuze. Do not confuse ethics with
morality. One way of making this explicit is to say that ethics is ontological.
This might appear a curious statement in relation to Levinas, since one of this
books is called Otherwise than Being,
but one should be reminded that the source of his work is an explicit critique
of Heidegger and more specifically Being and
Time, which could have been called Ethics
and Time. Some say this book has no ethics, but for me it is a profoundly ethical book,
if one thinks ethics is about how one lives one's life, as the Stoics and
Spinoza explain, and not about making judgements. Because Levinas is writing against this ontology (which is an ontology of
specific kind), he calls what he does an ethics beyond being, but I would say that it is another way of doing ontology (a kind of neo-Platonism) rather than against ontology completely.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
The Second God
God is not a being. This is your beginning point. If this is so, then atheism rather than the opposite of theism, would be its highest expression. Or perhaps we need to speak of two kinds of atheism. One is an ontological atheism that is repeated in an age when God is dead. But the God that dies here is the God of being, a God that is no longer required by science and philosophy, and whose death, therefore, is only the end of a certain way of doing science and philosophy that famously no longer requires this hypothesis (a God that died in the pages of Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, and certainly did not need Dawkins et al. to kill it off). What would the other atheism be? It would be a moral atheism, atheism redoubled and intensified. It would be more than the assertion that we do not need God for science and philosophy, but that we do not need God for our values either. It is this God that is murdered for the second time by Nietzsche, and this murder is far more frightening and unsettling than the rather tame euthanasia of the God of science and philosophy. What happens when the second God dies? Do we know what this means?
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Nietzsche
God as a being is
transcendent and exterior. Its fundamental metaphysical avatar is substance,
and it has a long history from Aristotle to Descartes. The God of the idea is
immanent and transcendental. Its avatar is the idea, and it has its
beginnings in Kant. Both these Gods are declared dead by Nietzsche. The
transcendent God, because being is becoming, and the transcendental one,
because morality is Will to Power.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Atheism
Atheism and theism are not opposed to one another but belong together. Each theism has its own atheism, and every atheism its own theism.
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