Chloroform, Melatonin, Lectures and Other Things that Put Me to Sleep (Leah)

Lectures are a strange form of text. They possess a strange power. They can be a powerful sleep aid or an agent in instilling passion in a subject. James charms us with his lectures, even without seeing him present them. What James can’t do is put the concepts of his lectures into practice through the form of his text. The lectures are primarily an informational vehicle; a text to educate. While some wordplay is possible, lectures don’t have the flexibility of, say, poetry.

Gertrude Stein’s work embodies meaning. The form of her writing creates meaning instead of merely conveying information. Stein illustrates the gaps in language in her works. While James can tell us that there is “only a man-made language, a conceptual shorthand, as someone calls them, in which we write our reports of nature; and languages as well known, tolerate much choice of expression and many dialects” Stein can actually make her audience feel the space between the tangible “nature” and the “conceptual shorthand” (100). How little words actually mean. Stein’s work can also show how the form of a literary work can create meaning. Take this excerpt from A Circular Play:

One does not run around in a circle to make a circular play.
Do not run around in a circle and make a circular play.
It is not necessary to run around in a circle to get ready to write a circular play (148).

You can see that the writing is “cycling” to use an improve term. It is going around in a circle and leading to no new information. It is ineffective just as it says running around in a circle would be.
Stein also has more freedom in poetry to play with the way people perceive the written word. James can tell us that “consciousness is constant change” (SoC), but Stein models it, by the repetition of the same words, or phrases in her poetry, by words with similar meanings or sounds. We are different every time we read the word. Time has passed, we have changed, the word has more meaning, and Stein shows us this through action. To look at an example of this repletion see the first two sentences of “A RED HAT.” from the collection Tender Buttons: “A dark grey, a very dark grey, a quite dark grey is monstrous ordinarily, it is so monstrous because there is no red in it. If red is in everything it is not necessary” (252).

How to See Clear through Our Ideas (Kevin)

I find the topic of this prompt quite difficult to respond to; if I am to respect the essential caveat of the proposition to limit my inquiry into style to the notion that the chosen method of artistic grace is a voluntary act on behalf of the author. The only way for me to reply to this prompt is to explain why I cannot. To think that Stein could write Stevens, or Plato, Peirce, is unimaginable, for an author has as little choice over the idiosyncratic nature of her style as she does in the selection of her parents. In holding that a particular style may be brought off through careful attention to its technique, we are essentially saying that Stein could have written like Stevens, or that Plato could have written like Peirce, if they had been so inclined. The vital motivation that the individual discovers in responding to the historical needs of her epoch as they confront her specifically is too bound up in technique for there to be any question of an author writing in a different style than her own. For example, James was a scientifically minded thinker with a religious temperament. In his writings he sought to provide justification for the possibilities of religious experience in a time when philosophy was infused with materialism by appealing to the “cash-value” benefits believers stood to gain by entertaining the religious hypothesis; and on a more personal level, James’s work may be viewed as a resolution to articulate a plan of action to conquer his own soul-sickness. C.S. Peirce was a conflicted individual who seemed to believe that human beings must become confident in their pursuit of objective truth by pursuing it collectively via the rigorous principles of clear-headed scientific investigation. He wrote at a time when the rationalism of Hegel threatened empirical investigation in science with highfalutin abstractions that neglected to verify theories through experimentation. Wallace Stevens wrote wildly imaginative and exotic poetry—almost Romantic in the emphasis he places on the sublime and the power of the human imagination—at a time when the pursuit of truth through the practices of organized religion was no longer a “live” hypothesis for people following the catastrophes of the World Wars in the first part of the twentieth century. Similarly, Gertrude Stein responded to the oppressive restrictions in early twentieth century society that prevented her from publicly expressing her love for another woman. The disjointed structure through we she relayed her abstruse and codified language exposes the arbitrary power society with which society imbues its language and utilizes it as a tool to enforce its prejudices. And Plato, he found certainty by striking the via media between the philosophy of his predecessors Parmenides and Heraclitus. In his book Irrational Man, William Barrett describes the how personal urgencies of Plato’s life manifest themselves in his philosophy:
As a young man, we are told, Plato had studied the doctrines of Cratylus, a follower of Heraclitus who had taught that all things were in flux and that there was no escape anywhere from death and change; the young Plato, tormented by this vision, desired at all costs a refuge in the eternal fro the insecurities and ravages of time. Hence the enormous attraction for him of the science of mathematics, which opens up a realm of eternal truths…Hence too the tremendous emotional force for him of the theory of eternal forms or Ideas, since these latter were an everlasting realm to which man has access.

In order to ask what possibilities are opened or foreclosed by an author’s choice of a particular style, it may be instructive to remember Miguel De Unamuno’s assertion that all philosophy is nothing more than a justification for our conduct and beliefs after the fact. We may also quote one of Nietzsche’s more famous maxims: “Every great philosophy so far has been the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.” In this way, there is no distance in style, only difference. In pragmatic terms, we might say that a writer’s style is nothing more than the vehicle through which she “harmonizes” the conflicts reality continually presents to her with the stock of beliefs that give her the confidence and strength to navigate through the universe. On this point James writes:
Any idea that helps us to deal, whether practically or intellectually, with either the reality or its belongings, that doesn’t entangle our progress in frustrations, that fits, in fact, and adapts our life to reality’s whole setting, will agree sufficiently to meet the requirement.

If Peirce cannot write poetry, it is because the medium does not lend itself to achieving the goals of logical analysis that are the methods through which he understands reality and the projects through which he articulates it. If Stein does not write like Plato, it is because the hypothesis of “The Good” is not live for her, so pursuing a dialectic that sets out to reveal this truth is not only impractical but impossible because it lacks the vital necessity that the pragmatists hold as an indispensable aspect of all our truths. In Pierce’s terms: there is no irritation of doubt to stimulate a struggle inquiry to attain belief in a truth that is not live.
I suppose the point I am trying to convey here is that style is not an intellectual or aesthetic preference. It is the handmaid to the urgent needs of the individual at those times in our lives when artistic creation serves as defense against the “swarming continuum” of reality that threatens to overwhelm us when we are confronted with ontological shock. James writes in “Pragmatism’s Conception of Truth”: “It is high time to urge the use of a little imagination in philosophy.” Indeed, but it is important to remember that imagination is never independent of the reality that serves as its inspiration.

In order to effectively comment on a particular style of writing, it is important to understand the format being utilized by the writer. For instance, In Plato's Symposium there are several different points of view being communicated through the speakers. This adds another tier of complexity to the work because we also know that Plato is trying to use these diverse views in order to show us his own unique view on love without directly telling the audience. This indirect way of communicating can be utilized in poetry as well. Many authors utilize abstract metaphors in order to create an image that aids the reader in understanding the author's overall idea. This can be done in a variety of ways, such as appealing to sensory images and emotional states. In order to comment on a piece of abstract writing, the reader must fully understand the subtle use of language being utilized and be able to successfully translate the images being used into a form that is easily communicated to others. Philosophical essays, as opposed to indirect literary styles, are meant to clearly demonstrate a point in a straight forward manner. This style of writing is meant to take an abstract concept and make it easy to understand.

Form of Writing and School of Thought

-I do not think any of them differ. You look at the essay, the poem and the Symposium much like you do any other piece of work. You look at the basic content provided, then you take it a step further if needed and try to interpret it for deeper meanings. Then once that is done, you must analyze it based on that interpretation. So the only thing that seems to differ is the content by which those works are based on. When interpreting philosophy, you remove the core belief it is founded on and then compare it to other philosophical works that incorporate those same ideas. I have a limited understanding of poetry, so I cannot speak on its behalf in a deep sense. But it seems as though people interpret poetry based on the individual poet, not the idea. So the poem being interpreted would be compared to other poetry by that poet and the period in his life in which he or she wrote it.

Fringe Benefits (Kevin)

Philosophy, Poetry, Religion. The trinity by which we understand and create our being. The first step in any analytical task calls us to detach the subject of our concern from its context so that we may properly observe, dissect, and analyze. Such methods are expedient for study, but prove arbitrary when applied to lived experience. The distinction between these three disciplines may prove useful on a level that allows us to clarify the terms of certain definitions and concepts of truth, on some level of intellectual knowing, but on a more intuitive level of understanding our reality we find it necessary to unite method, poem, and prayer. In the fray of our experience we will cleave to any wisdom that, pragmatically speaking, will “help us to get into satisfactory relation with other parts of our experience.” A line from Shakespeare, a song from the Psalms, a maxim from Nietzsche, we summon all this wisdom into existence simultaneously when the need for ingenuity, action, and faith presents itself to us in life. Now, near the beginning of our 2,500 year old tradition of our philosophy Plato thought it proper to banish poetic artifice from the pursuit of truth. And perhaps, to some degree, he was right. How could we ever focus long enough to agree on the definition of a concept or establish the criteria for sound argument if we were all lost in the throng of our own apostrophic soliloquies? But one can become too focused and too methodical, just as one can become too poetic and too sentimental. William James seems to have recognized this fact; his philosophical writings always show him to have a touch of the poet. In his efforts to investigate the important consequences of unconscious life, he undoubtedly hoped to “unstiffen” the rigorous logic of philosophical thinking by showing the imperative role more intuitive modes of thought play in our lives; in fact, how the success of conscious thought is dependant upon the harmony it finds with the processes below it in the Unconscious.

The reconciliation of philosophy and poetry can only occur by acknowledging the psychology of the Unconscious. The existence of this aspect of our personality acts as the bridge between the unintelligible intimations with which poetry points us in the direction of certain truths, and the didactic and methodical explanation of truths philosophic exercise exacts. Psychology is truly the off-spring of this interdisciplinary marriage. Freud reports, “The poets and philosophers before me discovered the unconscious; what I discovered was the scientific method by which the unconscious can be studied,” and, “Everywhere I got I find a poet has been there before me.” Taking the cue from Freud, we might say that poetry provides the confused and tempestuous agglutination of passions and experience which it is philosophy’s task to clarify, refine, and categorize. What is philosophy, but a blueprint of chaos? Of the “undistinguishable, swarming continuum, devoid of distinction or emphasis,” James described as the pandemonium of pure reality? If finally, we can agree that all our truths—no matter: philosophic, poetic, religious—are but the instruments that help us to navigate more successfully through our experience, we may finally vanquish the antiquated distinctions that hold these three disciplines truths to be separate and unique for good, and begin to construct more successful instruments to navigate through reality from the categories that provide the necessary base of organization from which we gather the tools and materials to begin building. We Pragmatists are not saying no more sonnets for poetry, no more syllogisms for philosophy, no more meditations for religion; we are merely saying let us pray in verse; let us sing metaphysically; let us ask Shakespeare his opinion on God. Let us extend the benefits of each discipline's craft beyond their traditional boundries. Once we acknowledge the utility of our truths, it becomes obvious that each discipline need not resign itself to the methods and instruments it has been traditionally allocated in the pursuit of its truth. A philosophy may be on its last legs before it receives the revitalizing inspiration of a poet’s verse. The poet may search the library, weary of the time told epics and romances of her tradition before she finds her catalyst for innovation in a work of metaphysics. Inspiration, epiphany, revelation all these galvanizing forces of the spirit are translated into consciousness through the patience of the poet opening herself to her muse, the serenity of the philosopher in her wood, and diligence which the worshipper dedicates herself to her shrine. Truth, in whatever form, is never an act of will. This is the whole thrust behind James’s argument in “The Will to Believe.” We can never logically know why a hypothesis is live or dead for us; we can only sense the importance the accepting or denying the terms of its proposition means for us on an intuitive, Unconscious level. Belief only becomes an option for us once we reap the first fruits that ripen when our unconscious “gaps” are filled by the product of the hypothesis. At that point only, does our will become an instrument for us to utilize in the effort to sustain our beliefs despite their logical inconsistencies. It is my opinion that the introduction of the categories of psychology into philosophy has turned the appearance-reality debate of old into a debate over the role Unconscious drives play in conscious reality.

The poet, the prophet, the sage—all three are attuned to the activity of momentous live options floating by on the “fringe” of reality that become the visions of their namesake. James’s assertion that the artist’s vocation lay in her ability to “select her items, rejecting all tones, colors, shapes, which do not harmonize with each other and with the main purpose of her work,” hits the mark not only as a description of artistic creation, but also as a succinct summary of the Pragmatist’s conception of Truth. James believes what separates the artist from the woman in the street is her ability to eliminate the frivolous and seize upon the extraordinary aspects of existence. I don’t know if I agree with him on this point, I think anyone with eyes to see may observe and feel the effects of the extraordinary in reality. The difference between the artist and the woman in the street lay in the fact that the extraordinary impresses her more deeply. The conscious observation that sinks into her Unconscious is related to other monumental experiences that unite to form a poetic vision. She has the knack which James has described elsewhere as an “extraordinary faculty of association which characterizes what we call ‘intelligence.” Perhaps James and I do not think so differently on this matter after all, for he does describe this experience as a “harmonizing,” and that is the perfect verb to describe the consummation of separate images, characters, circumstances, settings, symbols, passions etc. achieve in the single unity of a poetic vision.

The relationship between poetry and philosophy is one that we each must construct in the face of a tradition that seeks to enforce the rigidity of dichotomized thinking. Interdisciplinary thinking is the key to roundness; by limiting ourselves to the precepts of one discipline we risk developing the blind spots that specialization engenders. At those times when we become locked in the tautologies “substantive” analysis runs us up against, we must resign ourselves to passively attend the transitive workings of our Unconscious in hope of finding intuitive guidance past our logical impasses. Only on coming to the “fringe” of our consciousness do we glimpse a new horizon.

Philosophy. It's What You Do. (Leah Douglass)

I think it’s best to be honest, right here in the first sentence, before you read any further you should know that I don’t have much of a background in philosophy. There, now that that’s out of the way I don’t have try and pretend.
The way I understand it philosophy is a lifestyle. You live philosophy. You can have a philosophy on how to live your life such as “I think therefore I am” or a philosophy on an abstract concept like truth such as James: “that ideas become true just in so far as they help us to get into a satisfactory relation with other parts of our experience.”
While poets can metaphorically live and breathe poetry, they don’t generally live by the rules of poetry. Philosophy has always, to me, seemed like a search for an answer, for truth. Poetry does not work in definite answers. There are too many gaps in language, and it doesn’t try to answer. Poets use philosophy. One such poet is Wallace Stevens.
Stevens employs philosophy in his poetry because he lives it. For example this passage from the second canto of “Notes Toward A Supreme Fiction”:

“And yet so poisonous
Are the ravishments of truth, so fatal to
The truth itself”

Stevens is discussing the fatality of searching for truth that will never be had, but doesn’t provide an answer.
It is possible that we have merely made an arbitrary distinction in the two fields. That poet and philosopher are the same. It could be the way we read poetry as opposed to philosophy. It could be that when I think “philosopher” society has told me to think of crazy overgrown beards, and when I think “poet” I think of Emily Dickinson. But as of now I see philosophy as a way of life, and poetry as a means to express life.

A Poet Philosopher or a Philosopher’s Poet?

Within these two disciplines of philosophy and poetry the potential for connections does indeed exist. Despite the vastly differing forms, and the fact the Plato dismisses these imitators of reality, there are indeed poets who have attempted to account for this same account of ultimate reality in a form not based on argumentation and logic, but rather a mystical connection to the world of things as they are experienced, as opposed to the way by which they are articulated. Seeing as neither of these disciplines can be reduced to a paraphrase, but instead must be experienced to fully appreciate what meaning, or significance the poet or the philosopher is attempting to convey, which in general stands as an attempt to understand the fundamental essence of things.

In the chapter of William James' Psychology concerning the stream of consciousness he describes the nature of any perceivable thing as having an inarticulable element, which he refers to as the “Fringe”. Now there are plenty of different means by which one can attempt to understand this quality, as it can indeed be explored through a cognitive means, but it can never be accessed. There is no means to access these notions through the qualities of our everyday experience, as they are steeped in symbolic meaning. Therefore a number of attempts have been made by philosophers and poets alike to all for the experience or at least the understanding of these distant notions through language.

For the poet Wallace Stevens the necessary means by which to access this notion, or at least come close to this pre-symbolic truth, is to abandon all previous notions of the faculties by which we navigate reality. In his poem “Notes Toward A Supreme Fiction” Stevens suggests that:

You must become an ignorant man again

And see the sun again with an ignorant eye

And see it clearly in the idea of it.

Never suppose an inventing mind as source

Of this idea nor for that mind compose

A voluminous mater folded in his fire.

Now this poem for the most part essentially establishes Stevens' account of reality, wherein he sees truth in its purest primordial form as being isolated from humanity's understanding of it. This poem is functioning like a philosophical treatise, but because of the form it's philosophical merit could be widely dismissed. If it were to be considered by philosophically and literately conscious individuals, who are willing to appreciate what these two disciplines can offer, and entertain the possibility that the coalescence of these two disciplines has the potential to access this truth that we are all in pursuit of.