When I began
to think about David Friedrich’s painting “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog”,
there seemed to be something odd about it. The painting reminded me of a TV news
report I saw recently showing an Australian politician walking along a beach
wearing a business suit. Both the politician and the “wanderer” seemed out of
place. Perhaps the politician had a busy schedule which prevented him from
changing into beach attire, but how can we explain the symbolism of the
painting?
László Földényi, a Hungarian essayist, has suggested
that the painting reflects the longing of Romantics to retreat from the fog of
prosaic life “and find in nature that universal connection which civilization
was supposedly unable to provide”. Földényi implies that, contrary to their
intentions, the Romantics’ view of nature was similar to that of Enlightenment
thinkers who viewed it as the object of rational and scientific thought:
“If we look
at the wanderer in Friedrich’s painting, he appears to be giving himself over
to nature, and yet at the same time he is decisively isolated from it. And this
indicates to us that the Romantic “deification” of nature, its enlargement into
a metaphysical category results in a tendency leading toward the violation of
nature just as much as the openly technicist viewpoint does. For there too in
the background lurks the intention to call to account, to seek proof and
persuasion, the desire for nature to become the likeness of humanity, to be the
mirror of our soul. In a word, the desire for nature to be pliable to their
conceptions of it—even if, in certain cases, these conceptions differ from
those of the natural scientists.”
consists of 13 essays in which the author seeks to examine “the experience of inscrutability to be found in depths of all cultural phenomena.” He is attacking the “belief in the omnipotence of reason that illuminates all phenomena” which he believes to be “the great inheritance of the Enlightenment”.
Hegel is
a prime target.
The title of
the book comes from an essay in which Földényi
speculates that Dostoyevsky may have read Hegel’s lectures on the philosophy of
world history while exiled in Siberia and writing The House of the Dead. Hegel
viewed world history as having a rational purpose and argued that the character
of some nations is such that they don’t belong within the purview of world
history. He ruled out Siberia as a setting for world culture.
Dostoyevsky
suffered greatly in Siberia but felt his estrangement from world history to be
a form of redemption from the gray rationality of European civilization. Exile
enabled him to obtain a better understanding of other Russians and of himself.
Hegel is also
the target of criticism in the final essay which discusses Elias Canetti’s
book, Crowds and Power. Földényi
discusses the difficulty of attributing a genre to this book, telling readers
that it is distinguished by its openness to metaphysical questions - particularly
the ancient question, “What is man?” - and a capacity for amazement at the
world.
Földényi
suggests that “Canetti almost appears to be sending a message” to Hegel.
Canetti was disturbed by “the arrogance of concepts” and held examination of
individual phenomena to be more important that generalizations. He claimed that
the conceptual interested him so little that he had not seriously read either
Aristotle or Hegel.
Hegel
believed in the fulfillment of history, but Canetti’s book is “a great
pessimistic expression of the viewpoint that man is irreparable”, as he continually
repeats brutal acts “while employing ever more refined means”. According to
Canetti, Europeans live in an ocean of myth, mistakenly thinking that their
rationalism is the fulfillment of history.
I am glad
that we do not have to choose between the views of Hegel and Canetti. In Freedom,
Progress, and Human Flourishing, I argue that although the roots of
liberty run deepest in countries that recognize Western civilization as
providing their cultural heritage, history gives us no grounds for complacency
about the future of liberty in those countries.
The old
horizons
The essay I
found most illuminating is the one on belief in the devil. Földényi suggests
that beliefs about God and the devil “took leave of their traditional metaphysical
theater” toward the end of the 18th century. He illustrates the
metaphysical theater with Goethe’s description of the demonic situation that Faust
observed within himself of being torn between the sensual and the non-sensual. He
suggests that Faust was “perhaps the last emblematic figure of European culture
who … represented his own endangered mentality without losing sight of the
Great Plan as envisioned by Pico della Mirandola.”
After that, Földényi claims that the “Good” lost its transcendental
constraints and became limited to concepts of utility, advantage, and
pragmatism, and “Evil” came to be understood as “anything impeding what general
belief proclaimed as advantageous and useful.”
So, what was
Pico della Mirandola’s Great Plan? In the 15th century Giovanni Pico
della Mirandola suggested that the goal of man - the reason God created humans
- was to love the beauty of the world or to admire its greatness. However, man
can do this in his own way. He can shape himself in whatever form he prefers. He
can degenerate into a lower, more brutish, form of life, or “be reborn into the
higher orders, those that are divine”.
It seems to
me that the essence of the Great Plan can still be followed by those of us who are
uncomfortable with the theology of Pico della Mirandola if we take care not to
lightly dismiss intuitions that to be fully flourishing we need to transcend a
focus on utilitarian considerations. My personal view is that such intuitions
deserve to be taken seriously because they stem from fundamental aspects of human
nature. Freedom,
Progress, and Human Flourishing offers the suggestion that we may take
pleasure in seeking to transcend utilitarian preoccupations “whilst rejecting
the idea that it is appropriate to employ the metrics of pleasure and pain to
assess the worth of our endeavors.”
Final
comments
I have selected
only a few of Földényi’s essays to discuss here. Some readers might be
interested to follow up his challenging views on melancholy and anxiety, or the
sad story of Heinrich von Kleist who features as prominently as Hegel.
In my view,
the author is successful in illustrating the poverty of rationalistic approaches
in explaining cultural phenomena. However, in asserting that the Enlightenment is
responsible for widespread belief in the omnipotence of reason, he is taking a
Eurocentric view. Scottish Enlightenment thinkers certainly did not believe
that reason could illuminate all phenomena. Modern followers of Frances
Hutcheson, David Hume, Adam Smith, and Adam Ferguson are unlikely to feel that their
views are under attack in this book.