Sunday, February 21, 2021

Thoughts for the Day: Sunday 21 February 2021

 

2018 publication


The solution to the “economic problem” is not economic, it is social and political. Simply continuing to stoke the furnace of human greed is a dead end.

To be great, one must make great work, and making great work is incredibly hard. It must be our primary focus. We must set out, from the beginning, with complete and total commitment to the idea that our best chance of success starts during the creative process.

America, we like to think, has been specially “graced.” Set apart. The first child of the Enlightenment, it was “declared” to others as the harbinger of a new order. Yet this rationally founded nation was also deeply devotional, a redeemer nation. Reason and religion, which should have contended near our cradle, conspired instead. If we kept ourself isolated from others, it was to avoid contamination. If we engaged others, we did so from above, to bring light into their darkness. To deal with others as equals would betray our mission.

As we perform an act, make a choice, we believe there are options. Options, Personal Agency, Choices, Decisions—these are the catchwords Ego thrives on. But if we look up from the engagement for a moment and speculate, Necessity’s implacable smile says that whatever choice you make is exactly the one req uired by Necessity. It could not be otherwise. At the moment the decision falls, it is necessary. Before it is decided, all lies open. For this strange reason, Necessity guarantees only risk. All is at risk in each decision, even though what is finally decided upon at once becomes necessary.
For the ancient Greeks, hope was the personified spirit, or daemon, Elpis. She carried a bundle of positive and negative connotations, some like our modern understanding of hope but others resembling today’s expectation and foreboding. Classicists and other scholars have debated back and forth intensely whether the fact that Elpis stayed trapped in the jar was intended as a boon or bane for humanity, an eternal gift left behind to ease the pain of the escaped ills or, maybe, a perpetually taunting source of illusion and emotional trauma. My guess is that the parable is saying that hope is both: the ancient Greeks— or Hesiod, at least— understood that hope is ambiguous in its very essence.

It [the relationship of emotion & style] is a point to labour, as being the very purpose of writing a fully historical biography; one, that is, that manages to re-create how a life was lived and then takes its moral measure again, two generations later. The mind searches for a style (in Nietzsche’s usage), shaped and reshaped by certain passions, which it struggles to make congenial to thought, and applies this style to the comprehension of its experience and the knowledge it will yield. The great stylists of philosophy whom Collingwood briefly typifies in the book—“the classical elegance of Descartes, the lapidary phrases of Spinoza, the tortured metaphor-ridden periods of Hegel”—are stylish precisely because such are the accommodations these men found for their passions as these compelled and were harnessed by their thought.

The idea of separating a bubble from the water it floats in is nonsensical. The water around it defines the bubble. The bubble has no existence outside of the water. In the same way a human being is defined by its environment, and the idea of removing a human being from its environment is equally nonsensical. We do not exist outside of our environment.





Jung the Mystic by Gary Lachman

 

2010 publication 


When I finished this book and recorded my completion on my Goodreads account, I was immediately asked to rate it on their 1-5 star system. I don't give lower than a 3 (I'd likely wouldn't bother to start let alone complete a book that I didn't find at least solid, worthwhile), and this book is clearly beyond that baseline. So a 4 or a 5? Normally, I award a 5 if a book is a game-changer, one that significantly alters or expands my perceptions or beliefs about a topic. This requires a book to be both well-written and in some way unique. A 4 then is something less than a game-changer, but still rates as a high-compliment. (N.B.: I rate fiction on somewhat different criteria, and I less often review works of fiction.) I should note that I'd previously read Lachman's biographies of Emmanuel Swedenborg and Rudolf Steiner, and I gave them both a 4-star rating. How did the Jung book rate more highly? Let me explain. 

First of all, let's look at the full title and subtitle: Jung the Mystic: The Esoteric Dimensions of Carl Jung's Life and Teachings--A New Biography. Thus, when I opened and began this book, I knew, in a broad sense, what I was going to get. My reading record on Goodreads currently shows I've completed 14 of Lachman's books along with one in progress, several on deck, and numerous shorter pieces. I wouldn't keep coming back to his works if they weren't rewarding. In fact, on topics and persons related to the esoteric, occult, spirituality, subterranean philosophy, consciousness, and so on, I've found Lachman a thorough, reliable, and well-grounded reporter. This book doesn't vary from Lachman's modus operandi that I just described. I came to this book with a wide but somewhat shallow and incomplete knowledge of Jung. I realized as I read this book, that I'd read very little written by Jung himself (more about this in a bit), although I'd read a fair amount by "Jungians." Also, I'd never read a biography of Jung. Lachman's account provides a thorough account of Jung's life above and beyond its aspects that are related to the esoteric or occult, although the publisher wants us to know that the "bonus" of this particular biography is its willingness to delve into the "non-scientific" aspect of Jung's life and body of work that Jung was quite hesitant to share. Jung wanted, like Freud, to be thought of as a "scientist" and his work thought of as "science," so pioneers of psychoanalysis emphasized the aspects of their work that they hoped would receive scientific acceptance. But as Lachman points out about Jung, without Jung's openness and experience with the "paranormal" (my term, not Lachman's), Jung's thought would not have been the Jung we know. In this regard, Lachman's book provides a real service. In addition, because of his deep knowledge of the field, he can draw interesting parallels and comparisons between Jung and contemporaries like William James, Rudolf Steiner, and Gurdjieff, among others. 

Lachman also is fair and balanced (really!) in his treatment of Jung's strengths and foibles. Lachman does his homework both in Jung's writings and those writing in his tradition or about him. Lachman points out that Jung's prose can be, at least at times, prove quite dense and taxing, what Lachman describes as Jung's "Herr Doctor Professor" mode. Also, Jung had affairs with patients and he could at times be a real horse's ass toward those around him. He, like Freud, could become rigid with followers and dogmatic about his practices. That any of us--but especially persons of genuine genius--often fail in human relationships is no newsflash and doesn't undermine (necessarily) their body of work. The thoughts and the person are (at least in some measure) separate. And as Jung was, in some measure, an artist--a producer of beautiful thoughts and images--we know that there's always a measure of dissonance between the beauty and perfection of the art and the uglier realities of th artist (as it is with all of us). Lachman deals with both the beauty and value of Jung's work and his personal strengths and foibles with an admirable even hand (as I've come to expect of him). Lachman also dispenses with claims that Jung was a Nazi sympathizer after thoroughly reviewing the evidence of such claims. (Jung, but the way, was a Swiss national.) In fact, it turns out that Jung cooperated with Wild Bill Donovan and OSS (precursor to the CIA) during the war. 

At the end of this work, Lachman provides some brief but quite useful comments upon those who've continued the line of thinking initiated by Jung, including many of the women ("Valkyries," as someone dubbed them) who worked directly with Jung, as well as later and more independent figures such as James Hillman and Anthony Storr. And last but not least, Lachman explores Jung's Red Book, a journal that Jung kept around 1915 to 1930 but which wasn't published until 2009. This work didn't prove to be the Holy Grail of Jungian studies, but, according to Lachman's account, it did shed new light on Jung's project and obviously provides a valuable contribution to understanding the man and his project. 

Now back to this Goodread's rating. If I could award a finer-grained rating, I'd go with a 4.5, somewhat around the B+/A- designation. But, like my alma mater, a "B+" on the comments or on the professor's posted sheets was still just a "B" on the official transcript, and an "A-" was still an "A" on the transcript. The grader has to choose. What tipped me to an "A" for this book? In the end, I gave it the small boost it required because Lachman is such a consistent student (and teacher) in his writings, a "career achievement" bonus if you will. When I begin and complete my next Lachman book, I have little doubt that I'll find the occasion both an enlightening and enjoyable read, and that's merits an "A" rating for an author in my book. 

Gary Lachman, "A" student