Dubbed a mere fashion accessory, a handbag is anything but. Deep in its depths lies a fascinating world of secrets, dreams, and — perhaps more mundanely — everyday items and tools for getting along in the modern (esp. urban) world. In his book ‘Le Sac: Un Petit Monde d’Amour’ (JC Lattès, 2011), Jean-Claude Kaufmann explains why this is so and what role a handbag plays in making and remaking women’s identities. Through the life stories of women, he pieces together — from the many things we toss into our bags — an overall account that vindicates the handbag as a ‘privileged place’. As reviewer Giovanna Colombetti argues, behind the sometimes mundane observations lies a broader story of how people manipulate and relate to objects in order to support and structure their affective life. This makes the book not only a joy to read, but may even lead its readers on a journey of self-discovery.
Carnap’s ideal of explication has become a key concept in contemporary philosophy, especially within the analytic tradition, and lies at the heart of a method of analysis that has sometimes been placed in opposition to various forms of naturalism. A new collection of essays, edited by Pierre Wagner, explores a range of issues in connection with ‘Carnap’s Ideal of Explication and Naturalism’. The essays in the book may be roughly divided into three parts: first, an exploration of the historical context of Carnap’s philosophy; second, a set of detailed case studies concerning explication and its evaluation; third, a critical assessment of recent claims (and counter-claims) concerning the dialectical nature of Carnap’s notion of explication. While not all essays aim for the same level of detail or historical depth, taken together, writes BRB reviewer Adam Tuboly, the essays point to fruitful new lines of research in Carnap studies and in the history of analytic philosophy more generally.
Vladimir Sergeyevich Solovyov (1853-1900) is widely considered one of Russian philosophy’s most ambitious figures. His magnum opus, ‘The Justification of the Moral Good’, ranges from a characterization of humans as spiritual creatures to discussion of the historical development of our socially situated consciousness, and on to questions concerning the morality of war and the moral organization of humanity. Contemporary readers may reject, or even mock, Solovyov’s musings, not least on account of their unabashed Christian roots. But, as Andre van Loon argues in his review of a new (and refreshingly unfussy) translation of Solovyov’s book by Thomas Nemeth, closer inspection of his Solovyov’s writings reveals a sophistication that eludes his critics and may vindicate him as ‘cleverer, more insightful and spiritual than his critics’.
Recently, a string of authors have lamented the state of American university education, including the limited aspirations of college students. Instead of pursuing, as William Deresiewicz called it, “passionate weirdness”, students major in applied subjects such as business studies, enter the financial sector and management consultancies, quickly leaving a more critical engagement with the status quo behind. What’s striking for the student of cultural history is the fact that every quarter-century or so this sentiment resurfaces, with professors expressing extreme frustration with how unlike them their students are, how docile and unquestioning. Tracing a trajectory from Horkheimer and Adorno’s ‘Dialektik der Aufklärung’ (1947) via Bloom’s ‘The Closing of the American Mind’ (1987) to more recent examples such as Deresiewiciz’s ‘Excellent Sheep’ (2014), BRB critic Bruce Fleming analyses this historical phenomenon. What he finds is that reading all these eerily similar books back to back suggests larger truths that no individual author can more than hint at, truths about the position of cultural critics and their ultimate inability to change that culture.
The perception of logical empiricism and its influence on contemporary analytic philosophy is currently undergoing a re-assessment. The received view has been inculcated in generations of students through such influential works as A.J. Ayer’s ‘Language, Truth and Logic’ (1936). Yet the origins and gradual emergence of logical empricism as a philosophical movement are far more complex and extend well beyond the English-speaking world. A case in point is Eino Kaila’s ‘Human Knowledge’, which was first published in Finnish in 1939 and which has only now been translated into English. As BRB reviewer Adam Tuboly argues, the translation of Kaila’s book, which has been given the English subtitle ‘A Classic Statement of Logical Empiricism’, forces historians of analytic philosophy to rethink their assumptions — and to acknowledge Kaila as a thinker who demonstrates a remarkably systematic and comprehensive style.
In a world that is more and more connected by electronic and other social media, questions of reputation and its management become ever more important, even to individuals who previously would not have thought of themselves as being in the public limelight. A recent volume, ‘La Réputation’ (2013), edited by Gloria Origgi and published by the Centre Edgar-Morin, explores this topic from an interdisciplinary perspective. Composed of twelve articles, ranging from psychology and economics to philosophy and sociology, the volume aims at a ‘disenchantment’ of the elusive notion of reputation. As reviewer Thomas Mollanger notes, though the volume engages little with the extensive body of reputation research in the English-speaking world, it nonetheless succeeds in highlighting and analyzing the centrality of reputation to a range of social phenomena.
Greg Frost-Arnold’s first book, ‘Carnap, Tarski and Quine at Harvard’ (Open Court, Chicago 2013), has as its subject matter a manuscript by Rudolf Carnap that was recently discovered in the University of Pittsburgh’s Archives of Scientific Philosophy. The original German manuscript is about the conversations of Carnap, Tarski and Quine (sometimes featuring Goodman) which took place at Harvard in the academic year 1940-41. That year marks a decisive point in the evolution of Carnap’s thought on semantics (one year later, he published his Introduction to Semantics). As Carnap and Quine reported in their intellectual autobiography, the dispute about analyticity played a crucial role in that highly productive year. ‘Carnap, Tarski and Quine at Harvard’, argues BRB reviewer Adam Tamas Tuboly, is a highly elegant edition and commentary of Carnap’s notes, claiming just as much as is warranted on the basis of the manuscript and other relevant texts. Its scholarly assumptions are carefully formulated and manage to unify three co-existing historiographical strategies: narrative, argumentative and micro-historical. The micro-history, in this case, consists in the conversations between Carnap, Tarski and Quine, yet the overall story fits with an emerging bigger narrative concerning the history of logical empiricism and analytic philosophy.
“A man of great wit, and little acumen, or penetration, can never succeed in jesting. Such a man proves always intolerable, with his facetious conceits, to judicious persons. His jests are merely playing on words, or puns, or allegorical, metaphorical and tropical modes of speech, and the like kinds of wit, without applying them with any acumen or penetration: and in that case he must fall into the insipid. Without acumen, a man cannot possibly guard against false thoughts: and if in jesting he thinks without acumen, he overlooks the differences of objects, and in that case may easily, by a false conceit, represent to himself a coincidence in things which greatly differ.”
Whereas most historians and commentators have thought of the history of Hungarian philosophy as a history of the reception of Western ideas, a new book by Tamas Demeter sets out to identify a distinctively ‘Hungarian’ strand within twentieth-century philosophy in Hungary. What gives Hungarian thought its distinctive flavour, Demeter argues, is a keen awareness that many of the most pressing philosophical problems are deeply connected to problem of society and sociality. So thoroughgoing is this strand that one might plausible speak of ‘Hungarian sociologism’ (by analogy with ‘German idealism’ and ‘British idealism’). As reviewer Akos Sivado argues, the book succeeds in establishing “a framework that provides the interpretational basis for a coherent narrative of twentieth-century intellectual life” in Hungary and, as such, contributes to a continuation of the very tradition it identifies.
The general capacity to feel pain is part of being human, yet it is subject to a number of seeming paradoxes. For one, we alone must endure the pain in our own bodies, yet we readily observe pain in others and expect that they suffer from it as we do. Furthermore, while we fear pain and condemn those who wantonly inflict it, violence in all its forms and meanings fascinates us. It is these, and other, paradoxes that Arne Johan Vetlesen, professor of philosophy at the University of Oslo, discusses in his recent book ‘A Philosophy of Pain’. The diversity of phenomena and contexts through which pain manifests itself inevitably leads to a certain degree of eclecticism. The result, writes reviewer Chuanfei Chin, is less an analysis of pain and a model of its ‘circulation’ in society, but a more or less loosely woven tapestry of observations — one that may not be strong enough to bear the weight of the author’s ambitious project, but one whose patterns nonetheless stimulate the reader.