One of the most interesting gossipy tidbits about Kojeve is that he had an intimate friendship with Leo Strauss (the godfather of American neoconservatism.) I've read almost nothing by Kojeve (except a short, insightful piece about the master/slave relationship in Hegel) & I'm definitely not trying to poison the Kojeve-well by association - it's just a surreal, fascinating historical intersection.

OK, I think I get it a bit more now. I tend to think of metaphor in terms of poetry; although I am also mindful that everyday language, and even scientific language, is permeated with it. So, I don't think Derrida's question is really a question, because the language of philosophy must also of course permeated with metaphor.

Now, you mentioned analogy as being the core of cognition, and as I understand it analogy, although not the same thing as metaphor has similarities with it. Analogy is thus analogous to metaphor but is not a metaphor for it. A metaphor can stand on the merest association, however tenuous; whereas analogy requires that the logic of one thing be like the logic of another. To put it another way, I see metaphor as imagistically or eidos-based, whereas analogy is logos based. I can see where analogy is intrinsic to metaphysics; but metaphor not so much.

So, thinking along that line I would say abstractions, if they are worn out anythings, are worn out analogies, not metaphors. I can see how 'ab-solute' might mean 'away from the solute' or 'the in-finite' might mean 'the not finite', there is a plain logic of analogy there it seems; in one case of movement and in the other of negation or 'taking away a known quality'.

I knew they were friends, but when you say 'intimate'...that would be interesting. There's also the rumor that he was a spy.

One example of metaphor would be the "mirror of nature." We can think of the philosopher as a sort of mirror or lens through which to see objective reality. But there's also metaphor as disclosure. This is the paradigm of reality made as much as it is found. So maybe a chisel works here. "God is love." Or "love is the only law." For Rorty, these statements are like "nonsense" that gets wedged in to common sense, irruptions that are gradually literalized, potentially for the community's benefit. So the philosopher is an inventor or poet, not just an undistorted mirror.

This relates in an interesting way to Hegel's discussion of sense perception in the PoS. He exposes the presumptions of critical philosophy that understand perception as being analogous to a glass or medium which distorts what is seen or an instrument that cannot but change what is seen when it operates upon it. And again I think 'perception as a mirror' and, by extention, 'philosophy as the mirror of nature' is more properly thought of as an analogy than a metaphor, but its not that important, anyway.

For me, "God is love" and "love is the only law" are anything but nonsense; rather they are profound truths, which only begin to appear as nonsense when analysis gets it sharp little ratty ontic teeth into them. It's true they are non-sense, in the sense of not being empirical statements, but the sense they have is that of a higher spiritual intuition, not that of the physical senses.

This relates in an interesting way to Hegel's discussion of sense perception in the PoS. He exposes the presumptions of critical philosophy that understand perception as being analogous to a glass or medium which distorts what is seen or an instrument that cannot but change what is seen when it operates upon it. — John

Yes. Rorty got me interested in Hegel. As you may know, he wanted to abandon the mirror or lens paradigm.

For me, "God is love" and "love is the only law" are anything but nonsense; rather they are profound truths, which only begin to appear as nonsense when analysis gets it sharp little ratty ontic teeth into them. It's true they are non-sense, in the sense of not being empirical statements, but the sense they have is that of a higher spiritual intuition, not that of the physical senses. — John

I agree. They are profound truths. They are radical, if taken in their full force. Not "God loves," but rather God is love or love is God. And love as the only law sounds like anarchy. So a feeling is God is the only law. Far from empirical, far from non-controversial. God lives in our guts, not even in our brain, because we ate his flesh and drank his blood. Deep stuff. Love's Body by Norman O. Brown looks into this.

God lives in our guts, not even in our brain, because we ate his flesh and drank his blood. Deep stuff. Love's Body by Norman O. Brown looks into this. — Hoo

Yes, I would even say that we are God's flesh and blood, and that the Eucharist and the Incarnation and Resurrection are all symbolic of that Holy Union. For me these are not empirical propositions at all, but profound truths in a kind of (here good) pragmatic sense in that they stir the embers and stoke the fires of transformation which may lead to the utmost reverence for life. I can't see how that can be a bad thing, provided the dogma is kept in his kennel in the howling blizzard, not out of cruelty, but out of compassion, giving rein to imagination, and a rising ecstasy over dogma. (I wish there were an 'insane person' emoticon; I feel so much like using one right now).

I haven't heard of the Norman Brown book, but I'll check it out.

So, thinking along that line I would say abstractions, if they are worn out anythings, are worn out analogies, not metaphors — John

I like the provocations of Derrida. Limited Inc is great fun at the expense of Austin/Searle that goes, I was going to say 'too far' but I don't mean that...I just feel Derrida always takes an idea to an extreme where few others would go. I like 'White Mythology' but that's partly because I find the idea of 'literal' meaning mostly baffling, and the coin imagery is very evocative. Even 'literal' in 'literal meaning' is a near-dead metaphor after all :)

As for Heidegger and B & T, I was guided to the other translation, McQuarrie and Thingy. First time around I found it impenetrable, second time - alongside a lecture course by Tom Baldwin - I found it almost lucid. Sometimes I just need a teacher to get me on track. I also came to accept, on second reading, that conventional language wouldn't cut it for what Heidegger had to say, that he had to break away from it to refurnish the whole house of philosophy, as it were. Mind you Hannah Arendt suggested that this portentous style of his became atrophied, a way of sounding important even when having nothing to say. (I think novelists who get outsize reputations end up like that, all style and no content)

Yes, I would even say that we are God's flesh and blood, and that the Eucharist and the Incarnation and Resurrection are all symbolic of that Holy Union. — John

Yes, I agree. I experience the "mystic" power of these myths which are therefore "true." Because it's trans-rational or sub-rational, I abandon any sort of empirical claim. Even a metaphysical claim would feel like idolatry, or the spirit dying into letter.

For me these are not empirical propositions at all, but profound truths in a kind of (here good) pragmatic sense in that they stir the embers and stoke the fires of transformation which may lead to the utmost reverence for life. I can't see how that can be a bad thing, provided the dogma is kept in his kennel in the howling blizzard, not out of cruelty, but out of compassion, giving rein to imagination, and a rising ecstasy over dogma. (I wish there were an 'insane person' emoticon; I feel so much like using one right now). — John

I totally agree. And perhaps you can see the possibility of a more "spiritual" or "complete" pragmatism, here. One could argue that it's always our hearts and guts that finally believe. If we can meet the world more joyfully and successfully with help from (reductively, 'defensively') a "string of marks and noises," then there's some kind of "truth" in such a string. I love "rising ecstasy over dogma." In contrast, I remember hearing arguments about whether to baptize in the name of JC or in the name of the F, S,& HG. It's hard for humans to live without their legalism and formalism, but this too me just buries everything valuable. Atheism is therefore valuable, perhaps, as a cleansing fire.

I haven't heard of the Norman Brown book, but I'll check it out. — John

It's very Freudian. He looks at (or dreams up )the tangled depths of religion, sex, and politics.

Heidegger actually flows for me. — csalisbury

I'm starting to feel my way in. I was reading last night well into the dawn, after hours spent here. I had to slow down. He's very thorough, very patient. I think I'm going to love this book.

[Does anyone] else find this style repulsive? — Hoo

Yes. I hate continentalism. Not so much because of the views--I don't agree with analytic philosophers' views any more or less than continental philosophers' views, but because of the style of the writing, and I couldn't agree more with "they're just terrible at presenting their own ideas." In my opinion, they may as well be illiterate at times. Hegel, Heidegger, Sartre, etc. even going all the way back to Kant, just can't write worth a crap.

I can say that I'm thankful for secondary sources. What others have made of Hegel or found in him has been (for me) as good as it gets. The secondary sources on Heidegger are fascinating too. Sartre was strange, because he could write enjoyable novels and plays. It's as if he became uptight or pretentious when "getting (all too) serious." My gripe with all of them is a sort of "scientism" in their style. It's depersonalized. I guess that's the physics haunting metaphysics. We must ignore the metaphorical and analogical and ambiguous. Derrida escapes this maybe, but he can be long-winded and "cute."
I don't follow Rorty all the way, but he is a stylish,radical fusion of some continental and AP philosophy.

Yeah, I like Rorty's writing a lot. Re Sartre, I can't stand Nausea, either, but I'm not much on realist fiction/"drama" in general outside of a handful of authors, and most of that handful is pre-20th century. I like a lot of 19th and 18th century literature in general, but outside of that, I gravitate towards "genre fiction." Philosophy I want to be written as if someone is writing science, though I do appreciate a sense of humor and a bit of personality in general in philosophical writing (as I do in science writing). But I want it to primarily be in a "clinical" vein.

It was Being and Nothingness that disappointed me in terms of style, though I love the ideas and themes. I actually think Nausea is occasionally truly great. That vision of the roots of the chestnut tree is something I had experienced myself (though not with nausea, just wonder).

A movement, an event in the tiny colored world of men is only relatively absurd — in relation to the accompanying circumstances. A madman's ravings, for example, are absurd in relation to the situation in which he is, but not in relation to his own delirium. But a little while ago I made an experiment with the absolute or the absurd. This root — there was nothing in relation to which it was absurd. How can I pin it down with words? Absurd: in relation to the stones, the tufts of yellow grass, the dry mud, the tree, the sky, the green benches. Absurd, irreducible; nothing — not even a profound, secret delirium of nature could explain it. Obviously I did not know everything, I had not seen the seeds sprout, or the tree grow. But faced with this great wrinkled paw, neither ignorance nor knowledge was important: the world of explanations and reasons is not the world of existence. A circle is not absurd, it is clearly explained by the rotation of the segment of a straight line around one of its extremities. But neither does a circle exist. This root, in contrast, existed in such a way that I could not explain it. Knotty, inert, nameless, it fascinated me, filled my eyes, brought me back unceasingly to its own existence. In vain I repeated, "This is a root" — it didn't take hold any more. I saw clearly that you could not pass from its function as a root, as a suction pump, to that, to that hard and thick skin of a sea lion, to this oily, callous; stubborn look. The function explained nothing: it allowed you to understand in general what a root was, but not at all that one there. That root with its color, shape, its congealed movement, was beneath all explanation. — Sartre

This "surplus" of the function or the concept or the explanation is one of my favorite themes in philosophy. And this is hilarious with an edge.

My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire. — Sartre

Did Sartre mean to be funny? I hope he sometimes laughed as he wrote Nausea.

Some philosophers and texts can be read outside a classroom. Perhaps all can - I imagine most, if not all can - but some a classroom/teacher(s) is/are helpful - or necessary. I think Hegel and Heidegger - and Kant - are best broached for the first time in a classroom setting. Also - In or out of a classroom - I think it's worth noting that even "philosophers" are just people - sometimes writing extraordinary things and sometimes in extraordinary circumstances. Read enough Anglo-American philosophy of mind and you won't get that vibe but the two figures you mentioned - Hegel and Heidegger - I'd say those would be the embodiment of such circumstances. Just people - but tackling extraordinary things and writing under extraordinary circumstances. And trying to fill big shoes - same as everyone else. So give them a break would be my second suggestion (first was reading in classroom setting if possible). As for his style - it's deliberate. If you think it's "unusual" or "atypical" - yes. Tough shit.

Well, that's pretty macho, Kevin (your "tough shit"). Sometimes, yes, it's worth the hassle. But the problem is always the opportunity cost of other books we could be reading, including secondary sources that aren't necessarily less valuable --unless one is invested in one of these asshole word-mongers as more than just another dude with a mind-blowing story that finally is the real Secret of man and the universe. I'm too old to play the fan-boy, so these famous f*ckers are going to justify themselves to me and not the other way around. That said, there's always some humility and suspension of disbelief and curiosity in opening one's self to a thinker. This humility only has real weight if one goes in with a sense of self-possession and of knowing the "essential" already. The other kind of "humility" is, in my mind, a juvenile quest for some master whose glamour one can buy in on. For instance, by tossing off keywords without being able to lucidly paraphrase a single thought of relevance to those not under the spell of the Name (I'm not aiming this at anyone in particular, just at ubiquitous intellectual vanity, which I sure as hell don't pretend to be free of). Ah, but maybe we can use some badly written book to enlarge the self more, learn a new poem, weave a more complex and beautiful synthesis. But, Jesus F. Christ, style matters.

Good points. In Heidegger's case, however, I just get the sense that yes, style matters so much so that for Heidegger's thought and project in Being and Time, it was crucial for him to write in such a way such that even his language and writing style themselves reflected what he was getting at - or to put it another way - it was crucial for him that the "form" and "content" of his style were as much as possible at one with one another lest his major points be lost on readers. Secondary readings and commentaries are definitely helpful, and from that point of view, one might be lead to suggest that he could have written that way himself to begin with - but then again we didn't get those secondary readings until later, and historically, it strikes me as a pointless argument. In particular, his style seems to me to be in line with his aim of overturning such things as "objective presence" in metaphysics, for example. Whether he could have written in another style while preserving this sense in his writing - well, maybe. But my point is I think he would agree that "style matters," and I think he had his own very much in mind as he was grappling with the ideas he was trying to articulate at the time. Also, for Heidegger, the relationship between being and language is far more intimate than say the relationship between a technical report and the stylistic concerns of lucidly transmitting and relating data or something like that. I think, too, that this aspect of his thought is a part of both his style in Being and Time and changes in his style in later writings.