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1 Year, 100 Books

1 Year, 100 Books

Tag Archives: philosophy

#32: White Noise by Don DeLillo

11 Wednesday Jul 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Literature

≈ 2 Comments

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100 books, book review, books, literature, philosophy, technology

I have made no secret of my strained relationship with technology (see this rant for proof).  As much as I enjoy the ability to procure endless entertainment with minimal effort, I worry about the effect such ease has on our lives.  The old man hiding inside of me looks back to the halcyon days of childhood, when being friends meant more than accepting a request on Facebook.  Playing football meant going out in the front yard and cracking skulls with the neighborhood kids, not turning on the Xbox 360 and pressing buttons.  This wasn’t because technology didn’t exist.  It was because the generations responsible for raising my own recognized the value of actual experience over virtual accomplishments.  My mother limited the amount of Nintendo we could play.  My brothers and I were required to go outside for a certain amount of time each day.  TV was a last resort, saved for family movie nights and rainy days.  The sensibility that limited the impact of technology on my childhood seems to have disappeared at some point in the past ten or fifteen years.  For many people, I suspect it disappeared long before that.  I shudder to think what impact this fundamental shift in our relationship with technology will have on the future.  Apparently I am not alone in my concern. (For the record, I recognize the irony of making such a rant via internet blog post)

Don DeLillo’s White Noise is the story of Jack Gladney, a professor of Hitler Studies at the College-on-the-Hill somewhere in middle America.  Jack’s life with his fourth wife, Babette, and their children is permeated by the omnipresent whine of technology.  The TV and the radio constantly offer commentary and commercials, uniting the family with the rest of America in a great quilt of consumerism.  Jack is happy, only vaguely haunted by the fear of his own eventual death.  This changes when a nearby chemical spill releases a black cloud of insecticide byproduct.  The airborne toxic event forces Jack and his family to evacuate their home.  Although they are allowed to return after little more than a week, the peaceful life the family knew is hopelessly disrupted.  Jack’s possible exposure to the cloud has him focused relentlessly on the possibility of his imminent demise.  Babette is also consumed by her fear of death.  A potential cure for their dread arrives in the form of Dylar, a medication that promises to eradicate the fear of death.  When Dylar fails, Jack resorts to extreme measures to ease his pain.  Through it all the hum of technology continues to surround him.

White Noise is more than a meditation on death.  It is an indictment of the influence of technology and commercialism on our everyday lives.  Jack does not fear his natural death.  It is only when exposed to a manmade disaster that he fears his unnatural demise.  The black cloud seems to rob him of the joy of living.  What DeLillo manages to express is that the white noise surrounding him had already cheapened Jack’s existence.  The black cloud simply makes him aware of that fact.  Jack’s relationships are defined by technology.  The comfort and ease offered by all of the devices surrounding him is enticing but ultimately dulling.  It blurs the line between what is real and what is merely projected.  It is a shame that the internet and social media did not exist in 1985 when DeLillo wrote this book.  I am sure he would have a great deal to say about these developments.

I was immediately captivated by White Noise.  It seems to say so many of the things I have often thought about technology.  What is the price we pay for so much convenience?  Have we given up some part of real pleasure for the appearance of comfort?  These are questions worth considering, and this is a book worth reading. White Noise is like the bastard offspring of Kurt Vonnegut and Marshall McLuhan, full of both dark humor and substantial social criticism.  Turn off the TV and read this book!

The Current Count

32 Read, 68 To Go

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#27: Discourse on Method by Rene Descartes

08 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Philosophy

≈ 3 Comments

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100 books, book review, books, classics, Descartes, philosophy, religion

Nietzsche has dominated my philosophical readings of late, so I decided to shift gears and try a new thinker.  A quick trip to Half Price Books and I was ready to delve into Descartes.  I had some familiarity with Descartes but had never read any of his writings.  His Discourse on Method seemed like the perfect place to start.

The full title of this work is actually Discourse on the Method for Conducting One’s Reason Well and for Seeking the Truth in the Sciences.  For some reason, it is more commonly known simply as the Discourse on Method.  In this short treatise, Descartes outlines his plan to examine all of the things he held to be true and determine whether they can be known with certainty through nothing more than reason and demonstration.  He distinguishes his efforts from classical skepticism by recognizing that there are some truths that can be absolutely known.  The most basic of these is his famous “I think, therefore I am”.  He goes on to demonstrate the necessary existence and perfection of God, and then to generally discuss certain truths about man, the heavens, and the physical world. 

This book has long been considered one of the most important works in modern philosophy, and with good reason.  Descartes’ method for examining the truths of the world has had a tremendous influence on the methods of later philosophers and the methods of natural scientists.  He writes with a clarity and honesty that is refreshing compared to many other philosophers.  While I disagree with some of the logic he employs to arrive at some of his supposedly incontrovertible truths, I applaud his efforts and admire his methods.  I specifically disagree with his proof of the existence of God.  It is essentially, Anselm of Canterbury’s ontological proof restated in a slightly different formula.  While interesting and apparently sound from a logical standpoint, this method of proving the existence of God requires that the individual making the argument believe in God to begin with.  It is a bit of philosophical reverse engineering.  If you believe that God exists, then the ontological proof seems valid.  If you doubt that God exists, the ontological proof will not persuade you.  This critique is certainly not reason enough to disregard Descartes’ Discourse.  I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in philosophy.

The Current Count

27 Read, 73 To Go

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#25: Ecce Homo by Friedrich Nietzsche

06 Wednesday Jun 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Philosophy

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100 books, book review, books, Nietzsche, philosophy

Well over a week ago I finished my twenty-fifth book of the year.  I usually greet this milestone with some sort of fanfare, but this year I let it slip by unnoticed.  The reasons are many, with the end of the school year occupying much of my time last week, beginning to study for the GRE (which I take at the end of this month), looking at graduate schools in earnest, and getting hooked by another book before I had blogged about my previous conquest.  Today I emerge from my technological slumber and finally post about number twenty-five.

Friedrich Nietzsche has been one of my most frequently read authors over the past few years.  His writing is always engaging and entertaining, and his philosophy is always challenging and stimulating.  Ecce Homo is no exception to that rule.  This is Nietzsche’s short intellectual autobiography, written shortly before his descent into madness.  The title is a latin phrase meaning “Behold the man”, which is uttered by Pontius Pilate when he presents the beaten and bloodied Jesus to the crowd shortly before his execution.  The book contains a short preface and four chapters with such bold titles as “Why I Am So Wise” and “Why I Write Such Excellent Books”.  Coupled with the title of the book itself, these chapter titles insinuate a certain amount of braggadocio on the part of Nietzsche.  The text of the book reveals a surprising amount of humility.  Nietzsche presents himself not as some towering intellect or incomparable thinker.  The quality that sets him apart is the courage to take his inquiry to its reasonable conclusion, despite the suffering that can accompany such intense inspection of the belief system surrounding an individual.  Nietzsche believes that the physical and emotional suffering he endured through the course of his life gave him the strength to pursue his philosophy through any intellectual suffering.  He paints himself as a new kind of philosopher, one that actively says yes to all of life.  This is very different from the priestly or purely academic philosophers preceding him.

I found this book to be wonderfully insightful about Nietzsche as a man and a philosopher.  It is definitely one that should be read after most of Nietzsche’s other books, as he offers specific commentary about each of his major works.  There are only a few I have not yet read and I intend to return to Ecce Homo after having done so.  I would recommend this book to any seasoned veteran of Nietzsche but would caution any Nietzsche novices about diving in too soon.

The Current Count

25 Read, 75 To Go

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#24: Secrets of the Heart by Khalil Gibran

20 Sunday May 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

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100 books, book review, books, classics, Gibran, literature, philosophy, poetry

I went with another quick read for my twenty-fourth book of the year, choosing Khalil Gibran’s Secrets of the Heart.  Based on my previous experience with Gibran, I expected a deeply philosophical book written in beautiful figurative language.  As usual, Gibran did not disappoint. 

Secrets of the Heart is a collection of poems and short stories that reflect Gibran’s general philosophy of renouncing worldly goods in favor of universal brotherhood.  He writes in language that is both wonderfully symbolic and ageless.  My favorite selections from this particular book were “Dead Are My People” and “John the Madman.”  “Dead Are My People” is a poem about the death and suffering of the people of Lebanon during World War I and Gibran’s guilt about escaping that suffering by moving with his family to America.  “John the Madman” is a short story about a young farmer in Syria who reads the New Testament in his spare time (against the orders of local priests).  His observations of the real world and the sermons preached by the priests do not align with his own scriptural readings.  When he (rightfully) speaks out against the corruption and wickedness he sees, he is dismissed as a madman and shunned.  Both of these stories are well written and very profound.  Even if the other selections offered in Secrets of the Heart had no value, I would recommend the book based on these two stories.  Fortunately, the entire book is wonderful.  Although I would recommend The Prophet or The Madman more highly, Secrets of the Heart is well worth reading.

The Current Count

24 Read, 76 To Go

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#22: The Art of the Commonplace by Wendell Berry

15 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Philosophy

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100 books, book review, books, economics, philosophy, politics

It is a well-known fact for teenage students that all assigned work (particularly assigned reading) is designed to waste their time for no good reason.  As a teacher (who has almost attained the wizened old age of 26) I get to see the reverse of that medal.  Much to the surprise of my teenage self, most of the work assigned by teachers in both high school and college really is meant to help the student.  While I stand by my 10th grade decision not to read Harry Potter as assigned in English class, I do recognize many missed opportunities for intellectual and personal improvement that resulted from that natural mistrust of authority in my youth.  In the spirit of that realization, I decided to revisit a bit of assigned reading.  The Art of the Commonplace by Wendell Berry was assigned by the Baylor University Honors Program as a summer reading project for incoming freshman back in 2004.  We were supposed to read the book and write an essay over the course of that summer and then participate in a discussion group during our first week on campus.  Eighteen-year-old Me skimmed enough of the book to write a thoroughly unremarkable essay and made no references to the actual text during the discussion group.  Score one for teenage apathy.  Last week I revisited this relic of my rebellious youth.  As it turns out, those honors professors weren’t just wasting my time.

The Art of the Commonplace is a collection of essays by noted novelist, poet, philosopher, and farmer Wendell Berry.  This collection includes previously published essays that span Berry’s five decade career and is intended to give a comprehensive (if superficial) overview of his agrarian philosophy.  As such, the book is divided into five general sections.  The first is entitled “A Geobiography” and provides context for Berry’s writings. Berry operates a farm outside of Port Royal, Kentucky near where he grew up.  This same area was home to his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents.  This long connection has given Berry an intimate knowledge and abiding affection for the land he occupies.  It is also important to note that Berry has not always lived on this farm.  He was once a successful writer and professor in New York City, Mecca of intellectuals.  He gave up that prestigious position to return to his native Kentucky.  That decision and his connection to the land have inspired and informed his subsequent philosophical efforts.  This first section illustrates that influence.  I appreciated the inclusion of this section, as it lends an authenticity to Berry’s other essays that would not be so apparent without its presence.

The second section of The Art of the Commonplace is “Understanding our Cultural Crisis”.  It includes essays that identify and discuss a variety of modern cultural issues, including environmental concerns, racism, gender discrimination, and overdependence on technology. Berry outlines a connection between these problems of culture and problems in agriculture.  The abandonment of the agrarian ethos fundamentally altered the way society looks at work.  In a society rooted in agrarian rather than industrial ways, physical labor and careful work are viewed as dignified.  Industrialism discredits physical labor.  Those who can avoid physical labor must be better than those who do such menial work.  The result is a discrimination against those employed in these jobs.  The root of racism, according to Berry is not that slaves were black, but that blacks were slaves.  Agrarian culture recognizes the importance of the health of our land and our communities.  Quality and sustainability are valued over quantity and immediate profit.  The industrial mindset replaces this careful approach with an exclusive focus on profit.  The result is a society more concerned with cash than character.  As a small-town boy turned city dweller engaged in a nonphysical job, I tend to be a touch skeptical that all of our cultural ills can be traced to the abandonment of the agrarian lifestyle. Berry’s arguments are very interesting, however, and certainly merit consideration.  I particularly agree with his notion that the shift in focus from quality to profit has certainly had a negative impact on the character of most people.  So many students in both high school and college are focused only on economic eventualities.  As a result they miss out on the true goal of education: enlightenment. 

The man himself.

The third section, “The Agrarian Basis for an Authentic Culture”, expands on the breakdown of culture as a result of abandoning agrarian practices.  Agrarianism recognizes that human beings do not exist in autonomous isolation.  Every person is inextricably linked to other people, other creatures, and the Earth at large.  Industrialism transforms complex, interrelated people into individual consumers. Berry argues that we must recognize and accept the responsibility of our interconnectedness if we are to repair the cultural damage of industrialism.  Only by forming close-knit communities that develop and maintain the awareness of these connections can we make real progress towards cultural and ecological health. Berry’s vision of communities in which “people belong to one another and to their place” is appealing.  My concern is with freedom from conformity. Berry argues that “A community, as a part of a public, has no right to silence publicly protected speech, but it certainly has a right not to listen and to refuse its patronage to speech that it finds offensive.”  That makes sense.  People are free to say what they want and I am free not to listen. Berry later states that

A general and indiscriminate egalitarianism is free-market culture, which, like free-market economics, tends towards a general and destructive uniformity.  And tolerance, in association with such egalitarianism, is a way of ignoring the reality of significant differences.  If I merely tolerate my neighbors on the assumptions that all of us are equal, that means I can take no interest in the question of which ones of us are right and which ones are wrong; it means that I am denying the community the use of my intelligence and my judgment; it means that I am not prepared to defer to those whose abilities are superior to mine, or to help those whose condition is worse; it means that I can be as self-centered as I please.

In order to survive, a plurality of true communities would require not egalitarianism and tolerance but knowledge, an understanding of the necessity of local differences, and respect.  Respect, I think, always implies imagination—the ability to see one another, across our inevitable differences, as living souls.

This notion of communities seems to require a certain amount of homogeneity amongst the community members.  What of those individuals who differ or disagree with prevailing community standards?  To say that a community respects all members as living souls and is capable of appreciating the value of differences ignores the tendency (supported by historical examples) to divide communities over differences rather than coexisting with them.  To argue that those were not true communities because true communities must respect differences does not answer the practical question—How can we create these perfect communities?

The fourth section is titled “Agrarian Economics” and is largely a critique of the prevailing economic order. Berry excoriates the industrial mindset of the present global economy on practical and moral grounds.  These criticisms apply to both free-market capitalism and traditional communism.  The practical criticism basically states that the current economic system exploits the environment and the consumers in the interest of maximizing profits.  Rather than seek the most sustainable methods of manufacture and production, corporations seek the cheapest.  This mindset creates an inherently unstable system.  Producing goods in the cheapest possible manner often involves stripping the land of its ability to produce the very commodities needed to produce those goods.  Eventually we will run out of those resources, which will be a catastrophe from which this economy will not recover.  Another practical flaw in our economy is the emphasis on competition.  There is a well-established notion that competition in a free market is inherently fair and inherently just. Berry argues that this simply cannot be true.  That notion assumes that all competitors are equal in opportunity and resources, distinguished only by their natural ability and effort.  Unfortunately, this is not the case.  In an economy based on competition there must be winners and there must be losers.  The winners accrue tremendous profits that allow them to defeat other less advantaged competitors.  This concentrates wealth and economic power in the hands of a very few corporations.  This again leads to instability as the unsuccessful and economically disadvantaged eventually refuse to accept this situation, generating potentially severe civil unrest.  The moral critique is very simple.  An industrial economy based on competition does not have room for concerns of morality.  Ethical considerations cannot be plotted on a profit-loss spreadsheet.  History shows that companies can and will violate moral considerations to the detriment of humanity at large in the interest of profit.  This system rewards those most willing to consider pure profit.  I must admit that I am not a fan of capitalism.  I have never considered it a just system.  In many situations, the free market does indeed reward those most willing to take risks and put forth tremendous effort.  Just as frequently, the rewards go to people who put in little effort and do no actual work.  It baffles me that a system in which tremendous profit can be generated simply by possessing large sums of money can be called fair.  Don’t get me started on the pitfalls and moral implications of an economic order that has the generation and perpetuation of debt as one of its primary foundations.  This doesn’t mean that I am a communist.  I think communism is even worse for many reasons (that I won’t extend this blog post by enumerating).  I do not know what would be better than the status quo, but there must be something.  Perhaps Berry has found that something.

The fifth and (mercifully) final section is “Agrarian Religion”.  It is primarily an appeal to religious communities, and especially Christian communities, to recognize the sanctity of every part of Creation.  Once this sanctity is acknowledged, it is impossible to blindly accept the ecological abuses perpetrated by the industrialist economy.  The only solution is to embrace the agrarian mindset that focuses on the holiness of the Earth.  Recognizing the miraculous cycle of life embodied in the natural world is absolutely essential to a sincere religion.  I thought Berry’s appeals were very persuasive and should be taken very seriously by all religions.  Focusing on spiritual concerns tends to devalue the physical world.  The result is disrespect for the environment that does not line up with a religion that values all of the works of the Creator.

Overall, I loved Berry’s book.  It is very thought-provoking and insightful.  I don’t agree with every aspect of Berry’s philosophy, but I definitely think his ideas demand consideration.  My chief complaint with this book is that it is somewhat repetitive and occasionally disjointed because it is an assemblage of essays from throughout his career.  It was an excellent introduction, however, and I look forward to reading more of his work in the future.  I fully appreciate the choice of this book by those professors eight years ago (but am glad I waited to read it until I had a bit more intellectual maturity).  Perhaps this epic blog post makes up for the crap essay I produced that summer.

The Current Count

22 Read, 78 To Go

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#19: A Short History of Existentialism by Jean Wahl

24 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Philosophy

≈ 4 Comments

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100 books, book review, books, philosophy

The motivation behind my resolution to read 100 books was to keep myself mentally fit during the interlude between my undergraduate studies and graduate school.  For that reason, I try to select books that will challenge me and will broaden my intellectual horizons.  That inspired such choices as Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, seven books by Nietzsche, and Gibbon’s Decline and Fall.  Having conquered such giants of erudition, I thought a slender volume by French philosopher Jean Wahl entitled A Short History of Existentialism would be child’s play.  It seems my reach has exceeded my grasp.

Wahl’s book begins with an examination of Kierkegaard and his philosophy, which is generally seen as the beginning of existentialism.  Wahl then discusses the philosophies of Heidegger and Jaspers in relation to the foundation laid by Kierkegaard.  The author then examines Sartre’s philosophy and concludes with a brief critique of the movement.  Brief statements about Wahl’s essay from other notable intellectuals are also included.  All of this is delivered very matter-of-factly, as though it were exceedingly simple.  I did not like it.

My critique of Wahl’s essay is based on two complaints.  First, Wahl uses far too much existentialist jargon.  I understand that philosophers often use particular words in a very specific fashion.  The best philosophers explain the manner in which they use such terms.  Wahl is not offering his own philosophy.  Instead, he is summarizing the development of a philosophical movement (of which he is a part).  In doing so, he assumes a certain understanding of existentialist language on the part of the reader.  Having read only one work by Kierkegaard and none by Heidegger, Jaspers, or Sartre, I lacked that understanding.  Without a background in existentialist readings, the reader will lack the necessary context to fully understand Wahl’s essay.  My second complaint is that Wahl’s treatment of existentialism was extremely shallow.  Granted, this is a short history of the movement, but brevity does not have to mean superficiality.  Part of the reason the jargon was so confusing is that Wahl does not explore the concepts involved at a deep enough level to allow for real comprehension.  I am sure that a person well-versed in existentialist literature would find Wahl’s treatment pleasantly concise, but I found it to be a bit too sparse.

Ultimately, I would not recommend this book unless you are already equipped with a solid understanding of existentialism (which would render Wahl’s book unnecessary).  That is the paradox of Wahl’s essay.  It is too shallow and too specialised to be understood by the general reader, and too brief to be of any real value to the seasoned existentialist.  My advice would be to read the philosophers themselves.  I intend to do so.

The Current Count

19 Read, 81 To Go

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#17: The Antichrist by Friedrich Nietzsche

18 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Philosophy

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100 books, book review, books, Nietzsche, philosophy, religion

I once again find myself in the position of apologizing after being absent from the blogosphere for nearly a month.  I can’t claim Jeopardy as an excuse this time.  Instead, I will blame it on my unwavering commitment to devote the best of my energies towards educating the young minds of today into the future leaders of tomorrow.  I can actually see the sarcasm dripping from the computer screen as I read the previous sentence.  To be perfectly honest, I just needed a break.  I have been busy with teaching and taking students to debate tournaments, but that is true for most of the year.  For the past few weeks I deliberately took a step back from reading and did a bit of vegetating.  That came to an end over the past weekend, when I completed The Antichrist by Friedrich Nietzsche.

Nietzsche wasn’t overly concerned with making friends with his philosophical writings, and The Antichrist is a prime example of that alienating tendency.  It should be noted that the title has a dual meaning, with Antichrist in German meaning both Antichrist in the personified sense and Antichristian.  In this book, Nietzsche establishes himself as a sort of Antichrist by developing a directly Antichristian line of philosophical thought.  Nietzsche’s disdain for Christianity goes beyond the merely intellectual into the realm of personal antipathy.  His delight in tormenting the Christian world is palpable as you turn the pages.  He really, really does not like the Christian Church.  As someone who comes from a Christian background, I was hesitant to read a book that I knew would be so challenging to the belief system that has surrounded me since birth.

Nietzsche’s criticisms are based on the notion that the early Christian church distorted the teachings of Jesus in an effort to empower the weak and suppressed elements throughout the Roman Empire.  Nietzsche argues that Jesus never spoke of sin and punishment or of a denial of the material world.  Instead, he believes that Jesus was a psychological type known as the redeemer.  The redeemer displays an absolute intolerance for pain.  Resistance leads to pain, and the redeemer therefore avoids resistance at all costs.  This avoidance leads to a willing acceptance of the world as it is, including the powerlessness of the redeemer.  This inspires a feeling of peace and happiness that constitutes “the Kingdom of Heaven.”  Nietzsche thinks this redeemer is an imperfect type, but prefers it to the image of Christ developed by the church.

According to Nietzsche, it was the early church fathers (particularly St. Paul) who distorted this simple message in an effort to exert power from a position of weakness.  This is an extension of the philosophy or religion of resentment (of which Judaism is the prime example) that Nietzsche had previously discussed in On the Genealogy of Morals.  These early fathers used the idea of an afterlife (not mentioned by Jesus according to Nietzsche) to force adherents to follow a strict set of rules (also not mentioned by Jesus) that center around denying the urges and instincts of the body.  This denial of the body stems from weakness.  The early Christians lacked bodily strength and worldly power, so they established the possession of such power as proof of a sinful way of life.  Ultimately, this denial is the root of the nihilism that Nietzsche thought was omnipresent in the Europe of his day.  These arguments are all made with a great deal of vitriol.

It has been the tendency of many Christian writers since Nietzsche to dismiss him as a heretic or atheist and condemn his arguments altogether.  I think this is a logical fallacy.  To argue that because Nietzsche is wrong in his disbelief of God he must also be wrong about everything else is a hasty generalization.  A thinker of Nietzsche’s influence and intellectual ability deserves a reasonable consideration.  I don’t intend to take on the role of Nietzschean apologist, but I will admit that I like the man.  His writings are entertaining and thought-provoking, even if not always right.  In the case of The Antichrist, I agree with some of Nietzsche’s arguments but oppose his general condemnation.  His chief concern throughout most of his works is to combat the denial of the body and its natural senses and instincts.  This has always been one of my concerns with religion.  I have never understood why so many Christian theologians throughout history have been so diametrically opposed to the body.  The idea that we were all hopelessly corrupted by original sin has always troubled me.  I cannot believe that an omnipotent and omnibenevolent creator would condemn his entire creation to a lifetime of depravity based on the mistakes of the original man.  I do not, however, think that condemns Christianity as a whole.  I think it is possible to embrace the Christian ideals of love and kindness without denying that there is a natural value and worth in our physical world and our natural urges.  These urges can become corrupt and overpowering, but should not be condemned outright.  Happily, I think there has been a tendency in some circles of Christian thought to place less emphasis on sin and condemnation and focus instead on living out the generous ideals that constitute the real foundation of the faith.  This is a very abbreviated discussion of the issues raised by Nietzsche and my responses to them, but I think this post has gone on long enough. 

The Current Count:

17 Read, 83 To Go

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#9: Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

12 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Literature, Philosophy

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100 books, book review, books, Dostoevsky, literature, philosophy

I am on Spring Break this week and, in an effort to get back up to speed on my reading, have declared this the week of the (short) novel.  My goal is to knock out at least five books over the next seven days.  To that end, I will be reading only novels, mostly short ones at that.  The first such novel is Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground.

Dostoevsky is another of the many great authors whose works I have never found the time to read.  Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov are both sitting on my shelves right now, slowly accumulating a layer of dust.  My experience with Russian literature is limited to War and Peace and a few Solzhenitsyn books.  I enjoyed each of those tremendously, and was especially struck by a certain inherent ‘Russian-ness’ they seem to possess, a way of connecting philosophical issues to real-world concerns without pretension or blatant intellectualizing.  Even with those positive experiences behind me and a reputation that includes praise from the likes of Nietzsche (not one to throw compliments around), I could never seem to work up the courage to tackle Dostoevsky.  That changed with Notes from Underground.

Notes is presented as the memoir of an unnamed narrator.  The first section is a monologue in which the narrator rails against the predominant Western philosophy taking over Russia at that time.  The narrator particularly takes aim at the notion that a man always seeks his own advantage, and that science can educate all of mankind into seeking what is advantageous as a whole.  The narrator insists that the opposite is true– man often knowingly seeks his own disadvantage.  His own life is an example, and he describes his character in an effort to prove his point.  This eventually leads to the second part of the book, in which the narrator recounts a series of events that show him consciously acting to his own detriment.  The ultimate message is that man is imperfect and imperfectable, an unpredictable creature who cannot be educated beyond this unpredictability.

Notes from Underground is an amazing book.  The narrator is a very unique figure who also somehow manages to represent mankind as a whole.  Dostoevsky’s wit and intellect are marvelous.  Very little actually happens in this book and yet it is impossible to put down.  Although written 150 years ago, the book is fresh and vibrant.  The rejection of philosophical systematizing marked the beginning of the existential movement and highlights one of the most important intellectual debates of the past century.  Whether you are interested in philosophy or just looking for a good read, you can’t go wrong with Notes from Underground.

The Current Count:

9 read, 91 To Go

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#5: Twilight of the Idols by Friedrich Nietzsche

24 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Philosophy

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100 books, book review, books, Nietzsche, philosophy

The typical book of philosophy seems to be roughly 30 percent real insight and 70 percent over-inflated language.  Nietzsche’s formula is just a little bit different.  He offers 70 percent insight, 20 percent attitude, and 10 percent beastly mustache.  The result is a book like Twilight of the Idols, which I finished last night.  Subtitled “How to Philosophize with a Hammer”, Idols is Nietzsche relaxing a bit and taking aim at the empty concepts that have become the idols of the modern age.  He sets his sights on targets ranging from Socrates to Christianity to Kant to democracy in general.  Nietzsche is never one to pull his punches, and this book is an excellent example.

At the core of the book is Nietzsche’s central tenet that life should always be affirmed.  His chief criticism of most of the so-called ‘idols’ is the tendency to suppress the will to life.  Spiritualism at the expense of sensuality and philosophies that seek to equate reason with virtue at the expense of the body are decadent and deny the will to life.  This decadence has caused the development of a false reality in the West, which manages to place more importance on a theoretical ideal existence than the actual existence we all enjoy.  Christianity is a victim of this same judgment.  The longest section of the book features some of Nietzsche’s most withering criticisms.  Taking aim at some of his contemporaries and recent predecessors, Nietzsche proceeds to rip ‘modern culture’ to shreds.  He again urges a revaluation of all values, as traditional morality has become life-denying and should be replaced by a truly life-affirming ethic. 

This book was outstanding.  While it lacks the depth of argument to be found in Beyond Good and Evil or On The Genealogy of Morals, Twilight of the Idols features some of Nietzsche’s most cutting criticisms.  His use of sarcasm and insult can be highly entertaining, and this book finds him being deliberately provocative.  The result is sometimes outrageous but never dull. 

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5 Read, 95 To Go

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#2: Sand and Foam by Khalil Gibran

12 Thursday Jan 2012

Posted by tcnorwood in Book Review, Books, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry

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100 books, book review, books, literature, philosophy, poetry

The work of Khalil Gibran has been a wonderful discovery for me over the past year.  Despite being one of the most popular authors of all time, and the third best-selling poet in history (according to Wikipedia), I had not heard of him until partway through college.  Even then I did not read any of his writing.  That changed last year when I read The Prophet.  I was immediately hooked on Gibran.  I read three other Gibran works in 2011, and chose another for my second book of 2012.

Sand and Foam is a difficult book to classify.  It is part poetry, part philosophy, part parable, and entirely genius.  Gibran manages to put simple truths into words that are both beautiful and profound.  Consider this line:

“I am ignorant of absolute truth. But I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honor and my reward.”

That level of self awareness and honesty is remarkable in any man.  Gibran’s influence over the past century has been much greater than many people realize.  As this New Yorker article points out, his quotes pop up everywhere.  A prime example: the opening line of The Beatles’ song “Julia” is a paraphrase of a line from Gibran’s Sand and Foam.  When The Beatles use you as a lyrical inspiration, you’ve done pretty darn well.

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2 Read, 98 To Go

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