To be is to be contingent: nothing of which it can be said that "it is" can be alone and independent. But being is a member of paticca-samuppada as arising which contains ignorance. Being is only invertible by ignorance.

Destruction of ignorance destroys the illusion of being. When ignorance is no more, than consciousness no longer can attribute being (pahoti) at all. But that is not all for when consciousness is predicated of one who has no ignorance than it is no more indicatable (as it was indicated in M Sutta 22)

Nanamoli Thera

Sunday, May 11, 2025

Theophany The Spirit of Ancient Greek Religion


Theophany is an open and unequivocal confession of pagan piety, a piety that requires no sacred scripture, is non-dogmatic, knows nothing of redemption and resurrection, and is unfamiliar with an omnipotent creator god. Instead, it recognizes a plethora of divine and semi-divine beings. Such a perspective has proven offensive to many. Not only to the early Christians and their theologians, for whom paganism could not be a matter of indifference. So they relegated it to the realm of demonic and magical powers. For Christians, inclusion of pagan piety within their narratives of religious history is rendered impossible, as is evident in the recent phase of Protestant theology and its attempt to demythologize faith. Myth and word are intrinsically united, and not only within the context of the Greek language and religion. The purging of all things mythical from texts and from life deprives modern man in ways that become apparent when we open our eyes to the starkness and lack of imagery in the modern world.

The primary inquiry to be undertaken concerns the relationship between mythology and mythos, that is to say, the scholarly investigation of a domain that has nothing to do with science. The merit of classical studies can solely rest in the faithful and precise reproduction of sources and their interpretation, rather than in interpretations and explanations that originate from entirely different domains, thus necessitating distortions. Neither does an aesthetic appreciation of myth, which divorces it from its foundation, suffice, nor does symbolization, which substitutes meanings for essence. Equally misguided is the naturalization of myth, which eradicates the divine and comprehends it as a natural process and natural force, seeking causal and teleological explanations for it. The hallmark of these endeavors is the reduction of myths to animistic, fetishistic, evolutionary, psychological, and psychoanalytical origins. This includes personification, which is nothing more than a regressive form of depersonalization.

Certain aspects of such interpretations might be astutely designed—acumen increases where sense diminishes—yet they all represent externally imposed constructs. They not only misconceive the myth but work toward its annihilation. They bypass the existence of the Gods, their world, and their sovereignty, from which the Homeric epics, lyric poetry, tragedy, temple architecture, and the sculpted figures of Gods and heroes have emerged.

“The divine,” as Otto states, “can only be experienced.” Experience implies that Gods cannot be invented, conceived, or imagined. Yet, in what kind of experience does the divine manifest? Not every experience suffices for that purpose. Such an experience already contains devotion, without which there could be no encounter. Such a relationship, founded on offerings and gifts, cannot be coerced by willpower or knowledge. There is nothing coercive within it. The Muses approach only the musically inclined individual, the Horae only the one who follows their course and their governance throughout the year, and the Charites bestow their blessings only upon those who can enter into their dance.

Throughout history, only the poetically attuned individual has had a path and access to the Gods. Without rhythm, whose divine origin was certainly known to the Greeks, without its movement, which is festive, everything remains mute. Without rhythm, there is no celebration, without it, all festivity withers.

Friedrich Georg Jünger →
https://olddarkgods.com/p/foreword-on-the-occasion-of-the-one?utm_source=publication-search
***
In another book of the same year (Der Geist der Antike und die christliche Welt ) Otto gave a strongly Nietzsche-influenced view of the Jewish and Christian religions in antithesis to the Greek Olympian world. Here, and in a series of articles leading to his main work, the Homeric Gods (1929; English translation, 1954), he supplied a philosophical interpretation of Greek religion, abandoning the philological method that had guided all his previous works. This methodological shift was due to Otto's classicistic conception of the uniqueness of Greek religion compared to any other. He maintained that the Homeric mode of seeing and thinking of the Olympian gods found continual expression within the Greek world "despite all temporal and individual variations, in the representative works of the Greek genius, whether in poetry, plastic art or philosophy" (Otto, 1929/1954, p. 20), being not only the very essence of Greek civilization, but indeed "the religious idea of the European spirit" and "one of humanity's greatest religious ideas" (p. 13). According to Otto, each Olympian god (he dwells on Athene, Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Hermes, not taking into account Zeus) is an Urgestalt des Seins, capable of revealing from its peculiar point of view the totality of reality—worldliness and naturalness—in human shape. Such are, for example, Apollo, the anthropomorphic revelation of spiritual freedom and distance from the mortal's world, and his twin sister Artemis, who represents "freedom of another sort—the feminine," which is "free nature with its brilliance and wildness, with its guiltless purity and its mysterious uncanniness" (p. 102). As Goethe had pointed out, Greek religion should therefore be considered as "theomorphic" and not as "anthropomorphic," with the divine in its human appearance being the model for mankind—and not the opposite.

Otto deepened his idea of the Greek divine as a revelation of "being" in human form in his other major work, Dionysus (1933; English translation, 1965). Relying on this conception, Otto was one of the few scholars of his time maintaining the Greek provenience of Dionysos, long before Michael Ventris and John Chadwick discovered the god's Mycaenean evidence in 1952. Though not belonging to the Olympian deities, this god discloses "a whole world, whose spirit presents itself again and again in new forms, connecting in an eternal unity the sublime with the simple, the human with the animal, the vegetal with the elemental" (Otto, 1933/1965, p. 188). The very essence of Dionysos lies therefore in the opposition between these incompatible poles; hence his madness, visible in his symbols: the mask (incarnating the simultaneity of presence and absence), the music (embodying both noise and silence), and the wine (symbol of the paradoxical unity of pleasure and pain). This madness, in which brightness and obscurity, and joy and horror, coincide, unifies also life and death, concealing in itself the mystery of procreation. For this reason, the Dionysian world is a feminine one, closely connected to women, as is clearly shown by the god's followers, the Maenads, and his spouse Ariadne.

Walter Friedrich Otto →

Thursday, May 8, 2025

Internal Exile

 

It was by chance that the writer Julien Gracq discovered On the Marble Cliffs at the newsagent’s of Angers station,133  at the darkest time of the Occupation. He opened it while waiting for a train and could not tear himself away from it. He would later state that the novel was ‘Jünger’s masterpiece’. In La Littérature à l’estomac,134  a famous 1950 pamphlet that targeted the commercialisation of literature, he would add the following:

I would readily give up on almost all the literature of the past ten years for Ernst Jünger’s On the Marble Cliffs.135 

At a later time, he would expand further and write:

This book, which saw the light of day at one of the turning points of history [1939], tells us not only about Jünger himself, but, through him, also about ourselves and our era […]. I believe that one should read On the Marble Cliffs as a quintessential book. It is filled with great imagery, with images that have been, and still are, those of our lives as men of the mid-twentieth century, of our joys and disasters. […] Those are the different faces of our very situation: whether moving or terrible, they are the framework under which the cards of destiny were dealt to us.136 

The Warrior Who Withdrew from the World  

These thoughts, expressed by Julien Gracq, summarise to a certain extent the purpose of our current book. Ernst Jünger is indeed the witness of the successive faces of European destiny throughout the cruellest of centuries. However, On the Marble Cliffs only relates this fate in a fleeting manner. This coded novel cannot be separated from the era that witnessed its birth, independently of any artistic judgment.

In the text that we have just quoted, Julien Gracq briefly points out the highlights of Jünger’s career as both an author and a soldier, a career whose successive stages we are well-aware of: the endless reading endeavours during his childhood and adolescence, punctuated by adventurous outings into an untouched sort of nature; the founding ordeal of the Great War; the insolent heroism of a young assault troop officer covered in scars and forever marked by the exhilaration of the military attacks and the unrelenting harshness of the trenches; and the birth of the writer from the very moment that he removed his helmet. And what a writer he was! He would first become an author of war books and then a writer of political works that would turn him into the intellectual beacon of new radical thoughts that would be collected in his sensational manifesto entitled The Worker. And it was then that the one that people sometimes considered a herald of the victorious movement of 1933 suddenly turned away from it all in the most abrupt and unbridled manner. In response to the pleas made to him, he would dryly reply, ‘There is no room for me in an army where Göring is a general.’

Jünger thus becomes a sort of inner emigrant. He travels and meditates before penning his breakthrough novel, On the Marble Cliffs, in 1939, a novel whose meaning was immediately understood in Germany. As the first copies come out of the printing house, a new war breaks out. Although Jünger is mobilised, the enthusiasm of the past has given way to resignation. The opportunities to wage battle would be rare and he would not complain about it very much. Having ordered his men to always respect the vanquished in the aftermath of the French campaign, he is appointed to the headquarters of the occupying forces. Apart from being on leave a few times and a three-month mission in the Caucasus, he spent the rest of the war in Paris, establishing friendly relations with all that the French capital had to offer in terms of talent. Indirectly involved in the plot of 20 July 1944, he evades the fate of a great many other officers. During a long life in which he would also experience other, less dramatic developments, he had overcome many a mortal peril while enjoying a strange privilege of invulnerability.

Summarising Jünger’s life in his own words, Julien Gracq compares him to ‘those mediaeval warriors who had one day chosen to hang their sword on the walls of a cloister’. Although the image itself is beautiful, the fact remains that Jünger’s long existence was punctuated by a greater number of transmutations than this single change. It is, of course, true that On the Marble Cliffs did mark a clear break in the middle of his life, heralding the immense rift that would soon befall the mind and destiny of Europeans. We shall return to this later.137 

This break in Ernst Jünger’s life and work is a source of more than one enigma. The warrior, tempted by the dreams of a violent revolution, suddenly withdraws from the world and transforms into a humanitarian and pacifistic hermit, collecting plants on the heights of the Marble Cliffs. And it is the unexpected that drives even the least curious onlooker to ask questions.

Ernst Jünger

A Different European Destiny 

Domminque Venner

Tuesday, May 6, 2025

Carl Schmitt, Jünger’s Unlikely Friend

 

Unlike Jünger, Spengler and Ernst von Salomon, several renowned intellectuals belonging to the same hard-to-define movement of the Conservative Revolution had initially hoped that the new chancellor would be the providential actor that would bring about their country’s national recovery. I am thinking of the jurist Carl Schmitt, the writer Gottfried Benn and the philosopher Martin Heidegger.

Carl Schmitt (1888–1985) was, for a long time, part of the circle of Jünger’s close friends. They had met at the beginning of 1930 and the mutual appeal exerted by these two superior yet different minds had been so great that Jünger would often speak of his ‘unfathomable friend’ and his ‘invigorating’158  company. What had also brought them closer before 1933 was their shared distrust of Western democracies. On the other hand, the two men would have divergent standpoints as soon as Hitler had risen to power.

The great jurist had published his major works at the time of the Weimar Republic: his criticism of political romanticism (1919); his book on dictatorship (1921); and his studies on political theology (1922), on the political form of the Roman Catholic Church (1923), on the notion of the political (1928), and on the concepts of legality and legitimacy (1932). Remaining rather on the fringes of the Conservative Revolution, he was hostile to any and all organismic thought and even rejected an entire part of the German political tradition in order to draw inspiration from Italian (Machiavelli), French (Joseph de Maistre), Spanish (Donoso Cortès) and English (Thomas Hobbes) authors. His Christian faith, which Jünger did not share, and his counter-revolutionary Roman Catholicism served as a basis for his philosophy of the State. He criticised liberalism, as well as the economic and moral doctrine of individualism, which he deemed incompatible with genuine democracy owing to the fact that the latter presupposes a political homogeneity of citizens and a similarity of views between the governing and the governed. In July 1932, he called for a vote against the NSDAP headed by Hitler, whom he considered dangerous due to his ideological and political immaturity. Supporting Chancellor von Papen, he even spoke out in favour of the Reichswehr-based national dictatorship project, arguing for a ban on both the Nazi Party and the Communist Party for being in breach of the Weimar Constitution159  .

Following in von Papen’s footsteps, however, he would align himself with the new power from the beginning of 1933. On 1 May 1933, he would even join the NSDAP, whose ban he had called for shortly before. With regard to this reversal, the question remains open as to the role of Schmitt’s opportunism and career concerns, which may or may not account for this. Appointed to the Prussian State Council in 1933, he also became the head of the National Socialist Association of German Jurists. His ambition was, in fact, to become the official jurist of the new Reich. Philosophically, he hoped to promote the idea of the State (the ‘total’ State, as he himself wrote) at the expense of the notion of Party. His theory was that there is no totalitarian state as such, only a totalitarian party whose ambitions are to be limited by the State.160  At the same time, he firmly upheld the distinction, a fundamental one in his eyes, between what is political and what is not; between the public sphere and the private sphere.

These conceptions would be rejected by the Nazis, who would regard them as a surrendering of the prerogatives enjoyed by the Party and its leader in favour of the State, all the more so since Schmitt was also opposed to any biological racism that contradicted his own philosophy of history. For this reason, he would be targeted by ever-increasing criticism from 1934 onwards. In 1936, he is forced to resign from his official functions, before being subjected to a public trial by the SS newspaper Das Schwarze Korps,161  in two front-page articles published in December 1936.162  Realising that he had deceived himself, he confines himself to his academic work, adding to the number of those who had embraced ‘internal emigration’, to which Ernst Jünger had long preceded him. This would not stop him, however, from being arrested by the American police in 1945. He would thereafter be imprisoned in Nuremberg until May 1947. In the meantime, he had been expelled from university and was without pension, depending on a few friends to survive. Plummeting into the blackest bitterness, he would thus indulge, on the pages of his own Journal (Glossarium), in venomous attacks against his friend Jünger, reproaching him for his apparent detachment and his gradual return to grace.

Dominique Venner

Ernst Jünger - A Different European Destiny 

Humility or against the umbilicus mundi syndrome

 

Most of us, whether we know it or not, suffer from a peculiar condition: the umbilicus mundi syndrome, a pathological inclination to place ourselves at the center of everything, and to fancy ourselves far more important than we are. From a cosmic standpoint, there must be something irrepressibly hilarious about Homo sapiens. Most of the time we behave as though the world exists only for our sake; we think of everything in terms of our own needs, concerns, and interests. Not only do we appropriate other species—we devour them. We don’t just use the planet, we abuse it, voiding it of life and filling it with trash. Out of greed or stupidity or both, we have subjected the natural world to such savagery that we may well have damaged it beyond repair. We are as a rule indifferent to the suffering of others, and incapable of relating meaningfully to them. Far from loving our neighbors, we exploit, mock, or resent them, when we don’t simply ignore them.

What makes our situation particularly ludicrous is that, within the bigger picture, we are utterly insignificant creatures. Lilliputian tyrants. The smallest stone we pick up randomly from a riverbed has long preceded us, and will outlast us. We are no grander than the rest of the world; in fact, we are less than most things.

The good news is that there may be a cure for this condition. The failure of the plane’s engine, of our car’s braking system, or of the elevator’s, can shatter us so thoroughly that, should we survive the experience, we will find ourselves transformed. What defines our changed existence is a new humility: failure has humbled us, and healing can come from there. The word “humility” has moral connotations, but rather than a virtue in the narrow sense, humility involves a certain type of insertion into the world, and a distinct way of experiencing the human condition. Humility is no ordinary virtue, as Iris Murdoch reminds us; it is “one of the most difficult and central of all virtues.”78In “The Sovereignty of Good,” Murdoch offers what may be the best definition of humility, describing it as “selfless respect for reality.”79 Ordinarily, she thinks, we misrepresent reality because we have an oversized conception of our place within it; our “picture of ourselves has become too grand,” and as a result we have lost “the vision of a reality separate from ourselves.”80 This misrepresentation harms us more than anything else. If we don’t do anything to correct it, we will end up cut off from the world, inhabiting a reality of our own making. Humility offers us such a correction.

Some of the most endearing characters in Yasujirō Ozu’s films are martyrs of humility. They would rather waste their lives than assert themselves. The greatness of the Japanese director’s art, however, is that it not only depicts humility; it embodies and performs it. Thanks to his use of low camera angles, Ozu gives us access to another side of things, to their lowly dimension, which we—self-centered as we are—normally miss. This is the method of humility itself.

Just as in Ozu’s films, where low camera angles bring forth a surprisingly rich face of the world, a humble position allows us to access a layer of reality that we don’t ordinarily see. That’s because our self-assertive drive places a screen between us and the world, and what we end up seeing is not the world itself, but our own fantasies of self-assertion—mere projections of power. It is only through humility, the opposite of self-assertion, that we can tear this screen apart and glimpse things as they are.

More than a form of behavior, then, humility should be seen as a form of knowledge. No wonder mystics and philosophers of different stripes have connected humility to a vision of truth. Purifying though it may be as a practice, this line goes, humility should be sought not for its own sake, but for the higher good it leads to. Bernard of Clairvaux likens humility to a ladder: you climb up it, one rung at a time (twelve in all), until you reach “the highest summit of humility” (summae humilitatis).81 That’s when you’ve finally found truth, for the sake of which you’ve done all the climbing. In his own words: “The way is humility, the goal is truth. The first is the labor, the second the reward.”82 Following in the same tradition, André Comte-Sponville defines humility as “loving truth more than oneself.”83There is something unique about the truth that humility gives us access to. It’s not just that we acquire a better, more “truthful” understanding of how things are, even if that’s no small feat. Something important is happening to us on the way there: we are being transformed as we climb the ladder and take in the view. When the humble reach the top, they find themselves possessed of a renewed sense of self—a reformed self. For those who happen to be believers, this is an epiphany of redemption: “Therein lies the greatness of the humble,” writes Comte-Sponville, “who penetrate the depths of their pettiness, misery, and insignificance—until they reach that place where there is only nothingness, a nothingness that is everything.”84

(...)

The Mud Cure

The labor of humility is a complex, dialectical process. Let me focus here on just three of its phases. In a first movement, humility involves acceptance of our cosmic insignificance. The word itself comes from the Latin humilitas (lowliness), derived in turn from humus (earth). The truly humble regard themselves as dust, or even less than that. The insight is as old as spiritual life itself. Adam, the first man in the Abrahamic tradition, not only was made out of dust, but had earth in his name (adamah). Humility is what God wanted to instill in Job when he asked him, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?” (Job 38:4). Job could not answer because dust doesn’t talk, especially not to God. Bernard of Clairvaux intuited something essential about humility: the humble can reach heavenly heights precisely because they lower themselves so drastically.

When the Stoics recommended “the view from above” as a form of philosophical therapy, what they meant was that one should embrace utter humility. To see yourself from above is to realize your insignificance on a large, cosmic scale. That’s also what Lady Philosophy, in The Consolation of Philosophy, sought to teach a terrified Boethius waiting execution in his prison cell. Or what, more recently, Carl Sagan popularized so well. “Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe,” he writes in Pale Blue Dot, take a different meaning if we just look at the earth from some remote point in space.87 Taking “the view from above” is the opposite of arrogance: it is to place ourselves within the bigger picture so as to understand how insignificant we truly are. Seen from such a distance, we are nothing but humus, if that. At its most fundamental, to be humble is to embody, in our dealings with the world and others, the insight that we are closer to nothingness than to anything else.

Embracing our cosmic insignificance is the zero-degree of our existence. At this stage, shattered by failure and overwhelmed by precariousness, we rightly feel crushed, flattened, reduced to dust. Humility, thus, places us where we belong. We are reduced to our true condition: next-to-nothingness. Yet this is no small feat: for along with losing our self-importance, we manage to get rid of the combination of self-deception and self-flattery that usually keeps us hidden from ourselves. The humble, although they are at the very bottom, are the ones who will make progress. “The humble man,” writes Murdoch, “because he sees himself as nothing, can see other things as they are.” He is the kind of person “most likely of all to become good.”88

In a second movement, we come to the realization that, thanks to our being brought down to earth, we find ourselves in a better position: we are on firm ground. Granted, we have been crushed and defeated, but then we underwent a rebirth of sorts, and we can again stand on our own two feet. We also realize that there is no degradation at this stage, for, by embracing our cosmic insignificance, we are true to ourselves. We may be poor, but we are honest. And that’s the best place to start: wherever we go from here, it will be a worthwhile journey. There is nothing healthier, for minds so frequently pulled up into the air by the force of their own fantasies, than to be drawn back down to earth once in a while. Hardened dreamers undertaking the mud cure are in for a feast. If the first stage, involving a crushing experience of failure, was traumatic, this one is rather serene. We are contemplators now, biding our time and enjoying the view. But don’t be deceived: the ultimate lowliness can take us to new heights of insight.

The third movement is expansive. Having lowered an anchor into the world, and regained our existential balance, we can move on to other, bigger things. The dreams now have the necessary ballast to be dreamt properly. At this stage, humility is no longer an impediment, but an enhancement of action, should we so desire. There is nothing more daring than the act of the humble.

Humility is the opposite of humiliation—that’s the chief lesson of this stage. There is nothing demeaning or inglorious about humility; on the contrary, it is rejuvenating, enriching, emboldening. Humiliation relies on the exercise of raw, external power; humility is all inner strength. Humiliation involves coarseness of mind (a truly intelligent person doesn’t humiliate others), while humility is itself a form of intelligence. Whether aware of it or not, the one who humiliates is a reject. Humiliation is often born out of frustration. In contrast, humility is all about inwardness and intimacy. The humble know from within—they see everything, understand everything, forgive everything—and that places them in a position of significant strength. Humiliation exhausts itself in the act, and those who perform it usually reveal their impotence. Humility grows and thrives with practice, transforming everything around it in the process. True humility, writes the rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “is one of the most expansive and life-enhancing of all virtues.” What it involves is not “undervaluing yourself,” but an “openness to life’s grandeur” and a “willingness to be surprised, uplifted, by goodness.”89 It is written that the meek shall inherit the earth.

Humility in response to the experience of failure is a promise of healing. Properly digested, then, failure offers us a medicine against arrogance and hubris. Against the umbilicus mundi syndrome—our debilitating tendency to imagine ourselves at the center of the world. It can heal us, should we care for a cure.

IN PRAISE OF FAILURE

Four Lessons in Humility

COSTICA BRADATAN

The Forest Passage - Translator’s Preface

 

“I would not encourage in your minds that delusion which you must carefully foster in the minds of your human victims. I mean the delusion that the fate of nations is in itself more important than that of individual souls. The overthrow of free peoples and the multiplication of slave-states are for us a means . . . ; the real end is the destruction of individual souls. For only individuals can be saved or damned . . . ”

C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

These words from Screwtape’s toast to young devils graduating from Hell’s training college describe—more or less precisely, if the religious concepts are set aside—the subject of this key Jüngerian work: it is the timeless theme of the salvation of the individual in the world, here in the contemporary context of globalization, technically all-powerful and manipulative states, and disintegrating support institutions such as family and church.

The salvation that may be found “in the forest” is understood, above all, as the preservation, or recovery, of the individual’s freedom, psychological and concrete, in the face of materially superior forces intent on imprisoning him—by violence, intimidation, or propaganda—and exploiting or destroying him for their own gain. This individual return to a primal relation with freedom in the midst of collective slavery Jünger calls the forest passage. And, as the forces seeking to exploit man today are but the latest incarnations of forces that have threatened individual freedom throughout history, so the path he sets down for the forest rebel is his recasting of ways that philosophers, religions, and esoteric movements prepared for past historical and spiritual human predicaments. In Jünger’s version it is a self-empowered initiative, reliant on no external institutions, which in our present reality are non-existent or fundamentally bankrupt. It is a path that takes strength and guidance from more basic and indestructible human factors, such as friendship, love, or conscience, and it is to be discovered and blazed by the individual in the “here and now” of his worldly experience.

While a forest passage may bring collateral benefits for society, in particular for other individuals, it does not aim primarily at world-improvement: the collective, as a whole, is essentially beyond redemption, a priori a lost cause. It is only individuals, forest rebels within society, that can hope, as exceptions, to escape the coercion, to “save their own souls.” The forest rebel battles the Leviathan not in the hopes of defeating it—for it eventually collapses under its own enormous weight—though he may promote this inevitable demise by inflicting strategic damage on it, and he can already help define and introduce the seeds of new freedoms for a post-Leviathan world. Rather, the forest rebel has two other immediate motivations in the here and now: first, to save himself (before trying to help a neighbor in the catastrophe, as parents are told to put on their own oxygen masks in an airplane crash before those of their children); and second, and not unrelated, to obey his conscience, the directives of an intact and normal humanity, which feels natural concern for its fellow human beings.

Jünger and the forest rebel represent no specific political agenda here, for the oppression to be resisted at all costs may be openly manifested in tyrannies or cunningly disguised in democracies, and it may arrive from the east or the west. In a certain sense his vision is even democratic, for the forest passage is available always and to everyone, regardless of their political, social, geographic, or economic reality. However, it is also anything but egalitarian and it is not a realistic option for the masses, for it presupposes a great inner distancing from society, an extraordinary strength of will, and uncommon courage.

Since the publication of Eumeswil (1977), no discussion of the forest rebel can be complete without mention of its successor in that later work, the anarch, in my opinion Jünger’s crowning achievement. Indeed, all the qualities ascribed to the forest rebel in The Forest Passage are present in the anarch, and then some, for the anarch is his stronger twin, comprehending all that he is and taking the development further. The two figures may differ in degrees of personal power and freedom, but essentially, or existentially, they are almost identical, and a forest passage always remains for the anarch as one in a set of contingent tactics:

The forest flight confirms the independence of the anarch, who is basically a forest fleer anywhere, any time, whether in the thicket, in the metropolis, whether inside or outside society.1

The forest fleer and the partisan are not, as I have said, to be confused with each other; the partisan fights in society, the forest fleer alone. Nor, on the other hand, is the forest fleer to be confused with the anarch, although the two of them grow very similar for a while and are barely to be distinguished in existential terms. The difference is that the forest fleer has been expelled from society, while the anarch has expelled society from himself. . . . When he [the anarch] decides to flee to the forest, his decision is less an issue of justice and conscience for him than a traffic accident. He changes camouflage; of course, his alien status is more obvious in the forest flight, thereby making it the weaker form, though perhaps indispensable.2I will make no attempt here to present the subtle differences between the two figures—the interested reader does best to pick up a copy of Eumeswil and form his own conclusions. But I will suggest that the ultimate importance of the present book lies precisely here: as preparatory material for a study of the anarch in Eumeswil. It then also goes without saying that the existence of Eumeswil and the anarch should not be understood as a reason to skip the earlier phase of the development and jump to the final product: as we saw above, Jünger himself reaffirmed the validity of the forest rebel in Eumeswil. Speaking also from personal experience, I encountered Eumeswil years before The Forest Passage—in Florence, Italy, through the excellent salons of the Association Eumeswil—and although we studied Eumeswil in depth, I did not fully understand its comments on the forest rebel until doing this translation. More importantly, by understanding the forest rebel I have gained a deeper and more grounded understanding of the anarch. The two figures are indeed best studied and understood together.

A final note regarding the translation of the book’s title and protagonist, of the act and the actor. We saw above that the translator of Eumeswil, Joachim Neugroschel, translated “Waldgang” and “Waldgänger” as “forest flight” and “forest fleer.” To be sure, these English terms have a catchy ring, form a convenient pair, and do reflect the internal and, when necessary, external distancing from society. Nevertheless, I departed from them, primarily because the word “flight” has a connotation of running away from normal reality, the choice of a weaker, not a stronger, individual. Naturally, the forest rebel does seek to escape oppression, and, being comparatively weaker than the anarch, he must “flee” society to some extent, while the anarch can remain concealed and wholly within it. However, the terms of comparison at the time Jünger conceived the figure of the Waldgänger were not the as-yet unborn anarch and his qualities, but the masses, and political activists, anarchists, and partisans. In comparison with these, the inner and outer positions the Waldgänger occupies require a stronger will, courage, and inner force; in this context, I find “flight,” as reflecting a relative weakness, inappropriate.

Moreover, there is the dual sense of “Waldgang” in German: it can denote both a going to the forest and a walking or being in the forest, and both are implicit in Jünger’s metaphor, which concerns moving to the new position and the state of being there. “Passage” reflects this dual character somewhat better than “flight,” which focuses only on the going there, and, again, implies a weakness that is only such in relation to the even more exceptional figure of the anarch.

For the actor’s name, I chose a compromise between Neugroschel’s “forest fleer,” which retains “forest,” and the French and Italian translators who simply used “rebel,” which this figure certainly also is. In this manner, a new term, the forest rebel, has also been coined for this freshly conceived and yet timeless existential figure of Ernst Jünger’s.

Thomas Friese

Saturday, May 3, 2025

The Death of Ivan Ilyich or being-toward-death

 The book of enigmas

Being and Time (Sein und Zeit, 1927) is an enigmatic book. It was written in a rush; Martin Heidegger had not published much since 1916 and his academic career was somehow stagnating. When it came out, however, the book became an instant classic. It has had such an overwhelming influence on subsequent philosophers, that, as George Steiner put it, “there is, in the history of Western thought, no other work like Sein und Zeit” (Steiner 1980: 76). Like most classics, the book is as unread as it is famous. That it was written in a rush and had tremendous success does not mean that the book is an easy read, should anyone want to give it a try. On the contrary, Sein und Zeit—at least in parts—is one of the most difficult books of philosophy ever devised; for many readers it takes longer to read it than it took Heidegger to write it. Certainly, the book’s lasting success over the decades is another of its many enigmas.

Intermezzo (where the philosopher turns out to be a master of disguise)

Heidegger’s peculiar use of language—not only in Sein und Zeit, but throughout his work—has given him the reputation of being, at once, one of the worst philosophers who have ever put pen to paper (if you listen to his detractors) and one of the greatest masters of the German language (if you believe his admirers). His language does not simply happen to be difficult, it is deliberately so. Indeed, an important objective of his philosophical project was to re-invent philosophical language itself. For Heidegger, Western philosophy has been in a serious crisis for almost as long as it has been in existence. “Almost” because there was a time, before Socrates and Plato, when philosophy flourished: the pre-Socratic period. Whereas for most philosophers Western thought begins with Socrates and Plato, for Heidegger it ends there. Heidegger has a name for this disease: Seinsvergessenheit (“forgetting of Being”). Starting with Plato, philosophers have lost themselves in the multiplicity of particular entities (Seiende), forgetting to pay attention to that which makes all of them what they are: Being as such (Sein).11Since Being entertains a special relation with language,12the “forgetting of Being” manifests itself in the degeneration of philosophical language itself. Philosophers, Heidegger believes, cannot find answers to their questions because they don’t know how to ask them. A new philosophical language is needed. “New” is not exactly the right term: for what Heidegger is really after is a recovery of a primordial linguistic layer, the innocent state in which language was before being corrupted by philosophers. To unearth this supposedly uncorrupted layer, Heidegger uses the etymological method.13Heidegger is a violent writer. Not in the sense of using “violent language,” but in the subtler one of doing violence to language, as though to “bring some sense” into it. A text by Heidegger looks more like a torture chamber than a piece of writing: you come across words that have been butchered (a beheaded noun here, an eviscerated verb there), and sentences mercilessly tortured to death. It is as if his plan is to put the words to some test of resistance, to find out where their “breaking point” is. David E. Cooper recounts a typical scene of linguistic butchery in Heidegger: “Nouns become verbs, and vice-versa; new words are coined; old ones are used in unfamiliar senses, and then assembled together into such concoctions as ‘Being-already-alongside-the-world.’” (Cooper 1996: 5–6)14Some of Sein und Zeit’s central concepts are born in this painful fashion—for example, “readiness-to-hand,” and “presentness-at-hand.” Although they sound rather abstract, both concepts are rooted into something as concrete as the human hand (Hand in German, as well). The language of the hand, again, proves crucial for understanding the life of the mind. To make sense of something is to “grasp” it. You understand what is going on when you have a good “hold” on things. Someone is said to be smart when she knows how to “handle” a situation. Heidegger makes the most of this insight and places the hand at the center of his philosophical anthropology. He divides that which we come across according to how the hand encounters it: first, as something concrete, in a process of “concernful dealing” with the world around, in which case things are “directed” toward the hand so that it can actually “catch” them (“Readiness-to-hand” / Zuhandenheit, he calls it) or, second, as objects of theoretical knowledge, situated, vaguely, somewhere “in front of” the hand (which he calls “Presentness-at-hand” / Vorhandenheit). Heidegger seizes an ordinary word, places it in isolation, presses it harder and harder, and “handles” it as if in some interrogation room until the poor thing has to spill out all its secrets.The reason for such a peculiar use of language, he suggests, is the need to change the way philosophers ask questions, but there could be other reasons as well, which might account for deliberate philosophical obscurity more generally. For there has always been a class of philosophers who, when making their arguments, use veiled pronouncements, half-uttered statements, and difficult terminology. It is as though for these people to communicate is to build a thick wall of words between what goes on in their minds and their audience.15There is a double movement in this rhetoric of concealment. The philosopher wants to give something out—she seems to extend a hand. Clearly, she means to say something, to be heard out, otherwise she would not have published anything. She is on the lookout for an audience, maybe even a following. When it comes to saying it, however, she does so in such a manner that the audience is left perplexed. Through the peculiar rhetoric she employs, her delivery puzzles rather than enlightens. The hand, which initially seemed to promise to offer something, now only wants to push you away.The situation is replicated by a similar pattern we encounterin the history of religion. In some Christian monastic orders,when someone wanted to become a monk he was firstunkindly turned away; often stones were thrown at him. Ifhe insisted, he was left to wait. After a while,if he was still there, he was reluctantly let in,yet again treated harshly. Elsewhere—in Zen Buddhism, for instance—when someonewanted to become the disciple of a sought-after master, hewas first asked to perform humiliating jobs, or even meaninglessacts (such as filling a bottomless barrel). Such practices arenot empty ritual, but serious gestures meant to test thedetermination of the novice. They operate as a screening deviceand make admission both competitive and meaningful.Just as a Zen master ritually subjects candidates for discipleship to excruciating pains, so Heidegger greets his readers with tests and ordeals. Granted, he does not throw stones at them like the ancient fathers, but something just as heavy. Sentences like this: “Whenever Dasein is, it is a Fact; and the factuality of such a Fact is what we shall call Dasein’s ‘facticity’.” (Heidegger 2000: 82) It is as though, to make sure that he does not end up hooked with the wrong kind of readers, he keeps everybody out. Those easily disheartened will soon go away, but they are no loss. Those genuinely interested will find their way in somehow. The few who, after having faced the refined torture and syntactical ordeals of Heidegger’s German, will be found still standing will have passed the test. They are the bravest: they have wrestled with the torturer’s writing until it started to give in, and kept hammering their way into the text until they faced no resistance.16Being toward death

What is Being and Time about exactly? The title almost says it all: being is (to be related to) time. The opening page of Heidegger’s book states its purpose: “Our … aim is the Interpretation of time as the possible horizon for any understanding whatsoever of Being.” What Heidegger seeks to do is to ask “the question of Being” (Seinsfrage)—that is: “Why is there something rather than nothing?” A crucial aspect of this question is the existence of the one who does the asking. A methodical mind, Heidegger believes that, before addressing the question of Being, he has to raise the issue of the one who does this questioning:

The very asking of this question is an entity’s mode of Being; and as such it gets its essential character from what is inquired about – namely, Being. This entity which each of us is himself and which includes inquiring as one of the possibilities of its Being, we shall denote by the term “Dasein.” (Heidegger 2000: 19)

The analysis of Dasein, which means literally “being-there,” but is left in the original by most translators, occupies most of Being and Time.17Dasein, as an “entity which, in its very Being, comports itself understandingly towards that Being,” (Heidegger 2000: 78) refers to a type of experience of being in the world that is specific to humans alone. Heidegger analyzes it in its fundamental structures, in relationship to other entities with which it comes in contact, as well as with entities like itself, in its “basic state” (care), in its “thrownness” into the world, in its moods and, finally, in its relation to time and finitude.

The topic of death plays a central role here. When Heidegger defines Dasein as Sein-zum-Tode (“Being-toward-death”), thus placing death at the heart of the human condition, in fact he re-establishes a connection with an old meditative tradition, whose essence is expressed briefly in a medieval homily: “as soon as man enters on life, he is at once old enough to die.” Death, this line of thinking goes, is not an event that will occur at some point in the future, but is already here because it is part and parcel of life. Death is not something coming to us from the outside, but something we carry within. Indeed, in this tradition, to live a good life is to accept the presence of death in its midst. Your existence as a whole acquires meaning insofar as you learn how to attune yourself to this ontological arrangement.18 For Heidegger the “essence, the motion, the meaning of life are totally at one with being-toward-death” (Steiner 1980: 104). To live better, Montaigne advises us to allow death into our lives. Heidegger might quip: that’s not necessary, death has always been there: being human is “being toward death.”

Heidegger employs a striking metaphor to illustrate the force of this “toward-ness.” He likens human life to a process of ripening: we can be said to be living only as long as we are “unripe.” The state of “ripeness” toward which life is directed is also its end—the riper we become the closer to death we are. “The fruit brings to ripeness,” says Heidegger, and “such a bringing of itself is a characteristic of its Being as a fruit.” The fruit’s ripeness is in it from the very beginning. “Nothing imaginable which one might contribute to it, would eliminate the unripeness of the fruit, if this entity did not come to ripeness of its own accord” (Heidegger 2000: 287–8; author’s emphasis). The insight evoked by Heidegger’s metaphor is chilling: a fruit is nothing unless it is ripe, yet as soon as it reaches ripeness it is as good as dead.

Death is always fuller than life. For life is nothing but passing from one state to another, while death is completion—ending but also fulfillment. Since death is the only direction toward which we move, we are placed in a paradoxical situation: to live is to come closer and closer to that which denies life. “Death is the possibility of the absolute impossibility of Dasein.” Heidegger reiterates this aporetic statement in several places, marking this possibility as a defining feature of the Dasein. Using a formula that will become a mantra in Sein und Zeit, he states that death reveals itself as that “possibility which is one’s ownmost, which is non-relational, and which is not to be outstripped.” Death is something “distinctively impending. Its existential possibility is based on the fact that Dasein is essentially disclosed to itself, and disclosed, indeed, as ahead-of-itself” (Heidegger 2000: 294; author’s emphasis). Unlike other entities in the world, Dasein knows that it will die.

Yet death is not something “unfortunate” that Dasein is “doomed” to experience. Dasein needs death. For Dasein death can be a blessing. In its absence, it would be a failure because it would not have access to a deeper sense of its own Being: “As long as Dasein is an entity, it has never reached its ‘wholeness’” (Heidegger 2000: 280). Only through a decisive insight into our “no-longer-being-there” can we get access to what we really are. It is crucial, then, that we learn how to look at our condition from the standpoint of our own non-being.19 More important still, it is through our relation to our own death that we can individualize ourselves. Death, says Heidegger, does not “just ‘belong’ to one’s own Dasein in an undifferentiated way; death lays claim to it as an individual Dasein. The non-relational character of death … individualizes Dasein down to itself” (Heidegger 2000: 308). This process of individuation is very important if Dasein is to become an authentic Dasein. Indeed, death is something each Dasein experiences individually:20 “No one can take the Other’s dying away from him” (Heidegger 2000: 284, author’s emphasis). Each Dasein dies its own death. Due to Dasein’s fundamental character of “Being-with,” when I am a witness to the other’s death, I can feel sympathy and have a representation of her death; by witnessing the other’s death I form some knowledge of death in general.21 However, I can never die the other’s death. Death is by definition an inalienable experience. “Dying,” says Heidegger, is “something that every Dasein itself must take upon itself at the time.” I cannot delegate my death to others, just as I cannot die for them. By its nature, “death is in every case mine, in so far as it ‘is’ at all.” In dying, “it is shown that mineness and existence are ontologically constitutive for death” (Heidegger 2000: 284).

Since death is such a highly individualized and individualizing experience, it brings about an infinite solitude in the one experiencing it. When dying one is completely on one’s own, no matter how many people happen to be around; this is why Heidegger calls death a “non-relational possibility.” When Dasein, as Being-toward-its-end, is to finally encounter its end, it cannot “share” it with anybody else. This is its own death, irreducibly so.22 The dying Dasein occupies a space that no other Dasein can occupy at the same time, no matter how much affection it has caused in others in the course of its life. This is a space in which only that particular Dasein can dwell—that Dasein along with its anxiety, that is.

“Being-towards-death,” says Heidegger, is “essentially anxiety,” which is a central concept in Sein und Zeit. He defines anxiety as “the state-of-mind which can hold open the utter and constant threat to itself arising from Dasein’s ownmost individualized Being” (Heidegger 2000: 310; author’s emphasis). Anxiety (Angst) is no ordinary fear: its concern is not with some particular occurrence in the surrounding world, but with the possibility of the world itself. The “threat” that Dasein experiences in anxiety is ontological. Anxiety is not about something, but about everything, and therefore about nothing—more exactly, nothingness. That’s why anxiety plays a major role within the economy of Dasein: it gives it access to its very essence, as “Being-toward-death.”23 As such, it is a “privileged” state of mind.24 Anxiety is Dasein’s chance to die in such a manner that will allow it to make the most of its life.25*

I can see you smiling. And you are right to smile. Everything sounds so abstract and dry. Yet given the unusual cut of this thinker’s mind, this is unavoidable. That’s why, to make the discussion a touch more tangible, I propose an experiment: a reading of Heidegger’s considerations on “Being-toward-death,” anxiety, the “they,” and authenticity, through Leo Tolstoy’s Death of Ivan Ilyich.

The portrait of Ivan Ilyich as Dasein

Scholars have noticed that the way Heidegger talks of Dasein as “Being-toward-the-end” in Being and Time is close to Tolstoy’s treatment of death in The Death of Ivan Ilyich (Smert’ Ivana Il’icha, 1886).26 At times it is so close that the term “pastiche” would not be out of place. Yet, oddly enough, Heidegger cites Tolstoy’s book only once—and then only to exile it to a footnote. He acknowledges that he has read it, but does so in such a furtive manner that the possibility of any significant influence is dismissed. Indeed, as if to put the reader on the wrong track, he gives the impression that he has misread it. “In his story The Death of Ivan Ilyich,” says Heidegger, “Leo Tolstoy has presented the phenomenon of the disruption and breakdown of having ‘someone die’” (Heidegger 2000: 495). Tolstoy’s book is not about that—not primarily so, in any case.

The most remarkable aspect of this parallelism is that the death of both characters—Heidegger’s Dasein and Tolstoy’s Ivan Ilyich—is projected against the background of a “they” existence. Ordinarily, Heidegger thinks, we are not ourselves: we live in a state of alienation. We think as the “they” thinks, dress as the “they” dresses, and in general we live as the “they” does.27 Dasein, says Heidegger, “stands in subjection to Others.” Properly speaking, Dasein “itself is not; its Being has been taken away by the Others. Dasein’s everyday possibilities of Being are for the Others to dispose of as they please.” Dasein is the plaything of the “they,” and as such it doesn’t belong to itself. “One belongs to the Others oneself and enhances their power.” The Others are here the indistinct mass, a faceless, nameless entity. If you asked the Others who exactly they are, you would ask in vain: “The ‘who’ is not this one, not that one, not oneself [man selbst], not some people [einige], and not the sum of them all. The ‘who’ is the neuter, the ‘they’ [das Man].” The “they” is virtually anybody and nobody in particular. “They” is imitable and replaceable ad infinitum. If any one of them expires, in no time another will take its place. No one will notice the difference because there is no difference: “every Other is like the next.” That “they” is replaceable does not mean that it is powerless. Its power is tremendous and comes precisely from its infinite replicability. “In this inconspicuousness and unascertainability,” says Heidegger, “the real dictatorship of the ‘they’ is unfolded” (Heidegger 2000: 164). One of the most important functions of the “they” is to generate norms, rules, and standards of taste. If you want to live in society, you have to behave as the “they” says you should, and in so doing you let the “they” permeate your life.

In its average everydayness, then, it is as “they” that Dasein exists—just as Ivan Ilyich has lived his life. Indeed, in Tolstoy’s vision, this is one of Ivan’s most “distinctive” features: “from his earliest youth he had been drawn to people of high standing in society as a moth is to light.” Ever eager to please, he “had adopted their manners and their views on life.” In the novel, the “they” acts as “people of high standing,” who remain appropriately nameless and faceless, but exert a crushing influence on individuals like Ivan. Tolstoy analyzes his hero’s awareness as he transforms himself following impact with the “they.” We see how any good natural impulses he may have had are gradually replaced with whatever the “they” decrees as desirable. As a student, for instance, Ivan had done things that “at the time, seemed to him extremely vile and made him feel disgusted with himself.” Yet later, noticing that “people of high standing had no qualms about doing these things,” he dismissed the unpleasant feeling and ended up not being “the least perturbed when he recalled them” (Tolstoy 1981: 44).

As long as Ivan Ilyich behaves according to the norms set up by the “they,” he has nothing to be afraid of. Indeed, such behavior only increases his social “respectability.” The “they” is a magnanimous master and conformity to its dominion comes with handsome rewards. Later, as a young prosecutor, Ivan would get involved in “drinking bouts” and “after-supper trips to a certain street on the outskirts of town.” There were also attempts to “curry favor with his chief and even with his chief’s wife.” Yet all this had “such a heightened air of respectability that nothing bad could be said about it” (Tolstoy 1981: 45). Social respectability is one reward that the “they” always grants in abundance.

Appropriately enough, even occasional acts of rebellion are allowed as long as they follow the way of the “they.” Indeed, provided that it comes with prior approval from higher up, a bit of dissidence is good—both for the contested authority and for the dissenter. It makes the former look more legitimate in society and the latter less of a coward in his own eyes. At some point, for example, Ivan Ilyich put “a suitable amount of distance between himself and the provincial authorities,” assuming an “air of mild dissatisfaction with the government” (Tolstoy 1981: 47). All this is very touching. Heidegger’s Dasein would do nothing else: “we shrink back from the ‘great mass’ as they shrink back; we find ‘shocking’ what they find ‘shocking’” (Heidegger 2000: 164). The distance that both Ivan and Dasein take from the “they,” however, is not an inch larger than the amount of illusory freedom that the “they” has given them to play with.

As Ivan Ilyich moves up the social ladder his life turns into one of total conformity to the postulates of the “they.” He is so good at the art of obedience that even when making what should be rather personal decisions—such as picking a book to read—it is not him who does the choosing, but the “they”: sometimes, after dinner, Ivan would read a “book that was the talk of the day” (Tolstoy 1981: 60). That’s precisely what Heidegger’s Dasein would do in a similar situation: “we read, see, and judge about literature and art as they see and judge” (Heidegger 2000: 164). I may be holding the book in my hands, but it is not me who does the reading, it is the “they.” Indeed, most of the time it is also the “they” who does the writing.

Confirming Heidegger’s observation that, in our everydayness, we “take pleasure and enjoy ourselves as they [man] take pleasure” (Heidegger 2000: 164), Ivan adopts a lifestyle that, far from individualizing him, aligns him to the dominant tastes and fashions set up by the “they.” Take the decoration of his new home. Freshly promoted, and seeking to upgrade his social standing, Ivan embarks on a grand project to create the most original and attractive of homes for himself and his family. The result, from his point of view, is “stunning.” His extreme efforts were worth making. Yet, as Tolstoy remarks with fine irony, the home “was like the homes of all people who are not really rich but who want to look rich, and therefore end up looking like one another.” Eventually Ivan’s place looked “so much like the others that it would never have been noticed” (Tolstoy 1981: 57–8). Of course it did—as long as it was not Ivan who decorated the house, but the “they,” it could not have been otherwise. No matter what he does, Ivan Ilyich is never himself, always somebody else: a faceless, nameless entity. Ivan is the “they.”

“And so they lived,” says Tolstoy. They moved in “the best circles” and their home “was frequented by people of importance.” So Ivan Ilyich lived, but how did he die? Did he for once escape the ways of the “they”?

The business of dying

As we open the book, before we even know who Ivan Ilyich is and what his life has been like, we learn of his death. We learn of it through the reactions of other people (close friends, colleagues) towards it. Despite the different relationships they’ve had with Ivan while he was alive, their reactions to his death display a surprising consistency. These are reactions of people who couldn’t care less. Indeed, for whom this death could turn out to be something—how shall I put it?—profitable. His colleagues assess the possible gains literally as they receive the news—Ivan’s death means that his position in the hierarchy is now vacant, which will trigger promotions and transfers and relocations. A few pages later, as Ivan is lying in his coffin, everybody in attendance is busy with something. His wife has a pressing “business” with Ivan’s friend, Pyotr Ivanovich—that is, “how, in connection to her husband’s death, she could obtain a grant of money from the government” (Tolstoy 1981: 39–40). His daughter will now have to change her wedding plans (something for which she will never forgive him). Schwartz, one of his colleagues, seeks to pre-empt any change to the plans they’ve already made for the night.

Ivan’s colleagues go on to play their game of cards, his family resumes its routines, everything falls back into place. Small inconveniences aside, the death of Ivan Ilyich has not caused that much distress after all. There is even something soothing about it. In some obscure way, everybody was relieved: “the very fact of the death of a close acquaintance evoked in them all the usual feeling of relief that it was someone else, not they, who had died” (Tolstoy 1981: 33). Heidegger talks of a process of “tranquilization” in relation to the “relief” we tend to feel about the other’s death. The “they” has its means to reduce the discomfort caused by someone’s death and to keep anxiety at bay. “The ‘they’ provides a constant tranquilization about death,” says Heidegger. In its essence, this is “a tranquilization not only for him who is ‘dying’ but just as much for those who ‘console’ him” (Heidegger 2000: 298; author’s emphasis).

Tolstoy highlights this tranquilization process in the novel. Not even Pyotr Ivanovich, Ivan Ilyich’s childhood friend, can escape a persistent feeling of indifference. All along, upon learning the news of his friend’s death, even in proximity to his dead body, then on his way home, Pyotr Ivanovich simply cannot mourn. It is as if to understand someone else’s death one needs a specific organ, which Ivanovich lacks. This death has nothing to do with him; it was “as though death was a chance experience that could happen only to Ivan Ilyich, never to himself” (Tolstoy 1981: 39). Tolstoy doesn’t say it clearly, but we are given to understand that this is precisely how Ivan, too, would have reacted to someone else’s death. Stylistically, this is one of the finest accomplishments of the opening chapter. To the death of a close friend, Ivan Ilyich would have reacted in the same manner Pyotr Ivanovich reacted to his. For Ivan and Pyotr are one and the same: they are “they.” Ivan would have behaved no differently because he was “they” and always reacted as “they” did.28For most of his life, Ivan Ilyich did not know anything about death. Nor did he want to. He had been one of those people (the vast majority of us) for whom death is of no concern. In Being and Time Heidegger talks specifically about people like Ivan. “Factically,” he says, there are many who “do not know about death .… Dasein covers up its ownmost Being-towards-death, fleeing in the face of it” (Heidegger 2000: 295; author’s emphasis). Ivan’s knowledge of death has been strictly theoretical, as an abstract possibility: death might happen in theory, but not to him. Just like Pyotr Ivanovich, he must have felt that death was “a chance experience” that could only happen to someone else, “never to himself.” When Ivan was learning logic in school, the sample syllogism in the textbook—“Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal”—looked fine to him. Caius may have had to die, but Ivan was a different matter altogether: that man represented “man in the abstract, and so the reasoning was perfectly sound.” But Ivan had always been “a creature quite, quite distinct from all the others” (Tolstoy 1981: 79–80).

That’s a lofty feeling, but Martin Heidegger has news for Ivan Ilyich: he is not distinct at all. Indeed, Ivan’s attitude is symptomatic of the approach the “they” typically takes to death. For the “they,” death is by definition “an indefinite something.” To the extent that I am “they,” death is something that always happens to others, never to me:

The expression “one dies” spreads abroad the opinion that what gets reached … by death, is the “they.” In Dasein’s public way of interpreting, it is said that “one dies,” because everyone else and oneself can talk himself into saying that “in no case is it I myself,” for this “one” is the “nobody.” Dying … belongs to nobody in particular. (Heidegger 2000: 297)

The fact that death has been of no concern for Ivan does not prevent him from getting closer to it every day. For death is wherever life is, it “takes place” continuously in the midst of life. Ivan Ilyich has been dying for as long as he has been alive. And so has Dasein, “proximally and for the most part.” Dasein, says Heidegger, “is dying as long as it exists,” and it “does so by way of falling” (Heidegger 2000: 295). At this juncture, what is striking about a parallel reading of Being and Time and The Death of Ivan Ilyich is that Tolstoy uses the term “falling” in his story to designate pretty much the same process. When Ivan, shortly before his death, comes to revisit his earthly existence, he realizes that there was “only one bright spot back at the beginning of life.” After that, everything “grew blacker and blacker,” and “moved faster and faster”:

“In inverse ratio to the square of the distance from death,” thought Ivan Ilyich. And the image of a stone hurtling downward with increasing velocity became fixed in his mind. Life, a series of increasing sufferings, falls faster and faster toward its end – the most frightful suffering. “I am falling …” He shuddered, shifted back and forth, wanted to resist, but by then knew there was no resisting. (Tolstoy 1981: 105)29For most of the time Ivan has “evaded” death, even as he was falling faster and faster toward it. Like the “they” always does, Ivan has never looked death in the face, never “anticipated” it, all of which—from a Heideggerian standpoint—is equivalent to an “inauthentic death.”30 David E. Cooper would say that, in the absence of a picture of life as defined by his death, Ivan is in the position of a story-teller who has no idea how his narrative will end31—indeed, a story-teller with no story to tell.

Not only has the “they” shaped Ivan’s life, but also his dying. His struggle with his sickness is for the most part the struggle of the “they” with sickness and mortality. An important point of Tolstoy’s story is to show just how ordinary one’s death can be. Still, a question persists in the reader’s mind: isn’t there anything that redeems Ivan Ilyich’s death from utter inauthenticity? Hasn’t he experienced any genuine anxiety in those moments, which from a Heideggerian perspective would have redeemed his death?

He may have. As Ivan realizes that he is soon going to die, a question starts to haunt him: “What if my entire life, my entire conscious life, simply was not the real thing?” For someone only days away from dying, such a question must be more than just an intellectual proposition. It takes considerable courage just to ask, let alone answer, it. At first, Ivan is dismissive of it. When it dawns on him that maybe he “had not lived as he should have,” he recalls “how correct his whole life had been.” (Tolstoy 1981: 102–8) A “they” existence is always “correct.” For all his efforts to push it away from his mind, however, the question keeps returning—until finally, shortly before his death, Ivan gives in and receives the ultimate revelation, the story of his life. What is this story exactly about? It is a summary of Sein und Zeit: a story about the “they” and its traps, about the fundamental lie on which “publicness”32 is based, and the effects it can have on life. It is the story of most of us.

It is thus revealed to Ivan Ilyich that those “scarcely perceptible impulses of his to protest what people of high rank considered good,” which he had always sought to suppress, “might have been precisely what mattered,” the real thing. His “official duties, his manner of life, his family, the values adhered to by people, in society and in his profession—all these might not have been the real thing.” There is certainly a note of anxiety here: Ivan has suddenly gained access to the “nothingness” behind the beautiful façade of his “easy, pleasant, cheerful, and respectable life.” This anxiety tears down the convenient certainties in which he had wrapped himself up, and leaves him in all the nakedness of his condition. On the brink of life, death firmly in sight, Ivan is now the closest he could ever be to what may be called an “authentic existence.”33Does this mean that Ivan Ilyich died “authentically” in a Heideggerian sense? One of the greatest merits of Tolstoy’s story is that it doesn’t provide an answer. Tolstoy the artist respects his character too much to take us inside Ivan’s death. Tolstoy the philosopher does not allow himself to suggest one answer or the other. He simply lets Ivan die his death. In this respect he is one step ahead of Heidegger. One criticism that has been brought against the latter’s account of death (by Blanchot and Levinas, for example) is that, from a strictly phenomenological standpoint, as long as one is alive, one cannot experience one’s own death, only the death of the others. If these critics are right, then Tolstoy is a better phenomenologist than Heidegger. Tolstoy knows where to stop; he feels that there is no (honest) way of knowing whether his hero dies authentically or not. Phenomenologically, one can only talk of experiences one has had, or can have, personally. Death is a personal experience, but of such an ultimate nature that it does allow any accounts of it by the one who does the dying. In a rigorous sense, the experience of death can only be lived, not articulated. As long as we are in a position to talk, we haven’t experienced it yet; once we have died, we are done talking. In a fundamental sense, death escapes us. This is all the more ironical as we never escape death.

Intermezzo (where the possibility of a farce is raised)

Sein und Zeit belongs to that rare class of masterpieces with which, as you delve in, you have an unsettling experience: you come to ask yourself, over and over again, whether what you are reading is something monumentally serious or just a monumental farce. And the attraction of such works comes precisely from the impossibility of deciding one way or the other—not even after you’ve finished reading them, not even after several re-readings. There is seriousness in Sein und Zeit, depth of thought and a sense that its author has stumbled upon something important about what it means to be human. But there is also, at times, a sense that the book was written with tongue in cheek, and in a mode of playfulness and self-subverting irony. One of Heidegger’s best biographers even talks of his “involuntary self-parody.”34The book’s writing style and terminology often creates the impression that what you are reading is a work of pure fiction, if a brilliant one. Heidegger’s language, which pretty much excludes him from the ranks of the “serious” scholars, placing him instead among poets, prophets, and magicians, is a language that does not so much describe a world as it creates one. Indeed, Heidegger’s text often comes across as a concatenation of spells, charms, and incantations. You can never quite decide, for example, what he really had in mind when playing with the infinite possibilities of the German prefixes, as he did with Um- (Umsicht, Umwelt, Umgang, etc.). Did he really mean something deep here or is he just caught in a game from which he didn’t know how to get out?

11Heidegger fully develops this notion in his later work, after the Kehre, but even in Sein und Zeit he offers sufficient hints in this regard.

12As Heidegger would famously put it later, “language is the house of Being” (Die Sprache is das Haus des Seins) Being cannot be (articulated) in the absence of language; it would be nothing without it. Any ontological engagement, any gesture toward Being is also a “linguistic” gesture. It follows that any mistreatment of Being is reflected in the language itself and the use people make of it. Indeed, language in general, says Heidegger, “is worn out and used up—an indispensable but masterless means of communication that may be used as one pleases, as indifferent as a means of public transportation” (in Steiner 1980: 45).

13George Steiner writes: “The figura etymologica, the excavation of meaning from verbal roots and the history of words, is in the fullest sense an ‘emergence,’ a stepping into light” (Steiner 1980: 47). Heideger’s heavy reliance on etymologies, with all the allusions, inside knowledge, and philological expertise it presupposes, makes his writing particularly dense. Sometimes, it takes a command of ancient Greek, medieval Latin, and old German just to go through a Heideggerian paragraph.

14“In the earlier writings,” says Cooper, “readers suffers the heavy-weight vocabulary of phenomenology (‘ecstasis,’ ‘categorial intuition,’ and the like), while some of the later work still strike them as more akin to the incantations of a mystic poet than to the essays of a professional philosopher” (Cooper 1996: 5–6).

15In a famous book, Leo Strauss relates these philosophers’ “esotericism” to the fear of political persecution that their texts may bring about (Strauss 1988); such a rhetoric of convolution, artifice, and ambiguity is meant to mislead potential persecutors. Strauss’ argument may work in some cases and not in others. Moreover, such a theory could hardly explain Heidegger’s preference for an obscure style.

16In Contributions to Philosophy (From Enowning), Martin Heidegger explicitly says, first, that clarity is a bad thing in philosophy and, second, that the work is only written for the very few, special ones.

17Technically, the work is unfinished.

18It is precisely death that makes us what we are; the experience of death is “an essential distinguishing mark of what it is to be human. The nature of human life and the nature of human death are tied inextricably together” (Wrathall 2005: 62).

19As George Steiner has put it, “Dasein can come to grasp its own wholeness and the meaningfulness that is indivisible from integrity only when it faces its ‘no-longer-being-there’ (sein Nicht-mehr-da-sein)” (Steiner 1980: 102).

20“Death individualizes, even though dying takes place in huge numbers” (Safransky 1998: 164).

21Dasein can gain an “experience of death, all the more so because Dasein is essentially Being with Others” (Heidegger 2000: 281).

22“When it stands before itself in this way, all its relations to any other Dasein have been undone. This ownmost non-relational possibility is at the same time the uttermost one” (Heidegger 2000: 294).

23In this state Dasein finds itself “face to face with the ‘nothing’ of the possible impossibility of its existence.”

24For Safransky anxiety is “the shadowy queen among the moods” (Safransky 1998: 152).

25“Anxiety is anxious about the potentiality-for-Being of the entity so destined, and in this way it discloses the uttermost possibility. Anticipation utterly individualizes Dasein, and allows it, in this individualization of itself, to become certain of the totality of its potentiality-for-being” (Heidegger 2000: 310).

26Philippe Ariès, for example, mentions it (Ariès 1974), and so does George Steiner (Steiner 1980: 105).

27“They” is the usual translation of Heidegger’s das Man, for which a literal translation is impossible in English. Man does not have an English equivalent, but its function is performed satisfactorily by “they” (as in “as they say”). In other languages Man can be translated unproblematically—in French, for example, with on, in Spanish and Romanian with se, in Italian with si, and so on.

28The Death of Ivan Ilyich has a peculiar structure. The story unfolds in chronological order, narrating Ivan’s life from childhood on, with one exception: the first chapter, where we are introduced abruptly to his death. This irregular structure has puzzled scholars, most of whom have a hard time figuring out Tolstoy’s rationale for it. In his book, The Death of Ivan Ilich. An Interpretation, Garry R. Jahn discusses this in detail (Jahn 1993). Yet in light of what I’ve been arguing, starting the story of Ivan’s life with his death, and more specifically with the others’ attitude to it, makes perfect sense. For it is in the “they” that his life truly originates; the “they” has made him who he is. The first chapter does a wonderful job at setting the stage for the unfolding of Ivan’s deeply alienated life.

29George Steiner talks of The Death of Ivan Ilych as some sort of exercise in controlled falling. For him the novel “descends, with agonizing leisure and precision, into the dark places of the body. It is a poem—one of the most harrowing ever conceived—of the insurgent flesh, of the manner in which carnality, with its pains and corruptions, penetrates and dissolves the tenuous discipline of reason” (Steiner 1996: 283).

30For Heidegger death “offers us an opportunity to take responsibility for our existence if we will face up to it” (Wrathall 2005: 61).

31“Anticipation of my death,” says Cooper, induces “a sense of my ‘Being-a-whole,’ for I am capable of ‘taking the whole of [my existence] in advance,’ viewing the possibilities that lie before me in relation to that final one, my death. Lacking such a view, I am in the position of a novelist with no conception of his book’s ending, for I am without guidance on structuring my life in a coherent fashion” (Cooper 1996: 45).

32By “publicness” he means an invisible, frightful force pressuring everybody into submission and uniformity. “Publicness” is the enemy of anything distinguished, rare, outstanding. Because of it, “everything gets obscured, and what has thus been covered up gets passed off as something familiar and accessible to everyone” (Heidegger 2000: 165).

33In his study on Tolstoy, Richard Gustafson sees The Death of Ivan Ilyich as an “autopsychological prose fiction” that describes “the discovery of life in the face of death” (Gustafson 1986: 159).

34See Safransky 1998: 154.

DYING FOR IDEAS

The Dangerous Lives of the  Philosophers

COSTICA BRADATAN

Friday, May 2, 2025

Gratitude

 Gratitude is the most pleasant of virtues, though not the easiest. And why would it be easy? There are pleasures that are difficult or rare and that are no less pleasing, indeed are perhaps even more pleasing for being so. Still, in the case of gratitude, the surprising thing is not the pleasure so much as the difficulty. After all, who wouldn’t rather accept a gift than receive a blow? Or express thanks than show forgiveness? Gratitude is a second pleasure, one that prolongs the pleasure that precedes and occasions it, like a joyful echo of the joy we feel, a further happiness for the happiness we have been given. Gratitude: the pleasure of receiving, the joy of being joyful. What could be easier? That gratitude is a virtue, however, should suffice to indicate that it cannot be taken for granted, that it is something we can be lacking in, and that consequently, in spite of or perhaps because of the pleasure, there is merit in experiencing it. But why? Gratitude is a mystery, not because of the pleasure it affords us but because of the obstacles we must overcome to feel it. It is the most pleasant of virtues and the most virtuous of pleasures.But what about generosity and the pleasures of giving that we hear so much about? The interested nature of that argument—it has become a staple of advertising, after all—should put us on our guard. Were there really such pleasure in giving, why would we need advertisers to remind us to give? If generosity were a pleasure, or rather, if it were only a pleasure or primarily a pleasure, why would we be so lacking in it? Giving always involves loss, which is why generosity is the opposite of and counter to selfishness. But receiving? Gratitude takes nothing from us: it is a gift given in return with no loss and almost no object or objective. Gratitude has nothing to give, except this pleasure of having received. What lighter, brighter, what more Mozartian virtue, I am inclined to say, and not just because Mozart inspires it in us but because he celebrates it and incarnates it, because he carries within him this joy, this boundless gratitude for who knows what—for all and everything—this generosity of gratitude. What happier and more humble virtue, what easier and more necessary grace than that of giving thanks with a smile or a dance step, with a song or with happiness itself? The generosity of gratitude. This expression, which I owe to Mozart, I find particularly enlightening: if so often we lack gratitude, might it not be more because we cannot give than because we cannot receive, more because we are selfish than because we are insensitive? To thank is to give; to be gracious means to share. This pleasure that I owe to you is not for me alone. This joy, this happiness, they belong to both of us. The egoist enjoys receiving; but his enjoyment is his alone and he keeps it for himself. Or if he shows his pleasure, it is because he wants to make others envious, not because he wants to make them happy: he displays his pleasure, but it is his pleasure. He has already forgotten that others might have had something to do with it. But what does he care about others? The egoist is ungrateful not because he doesn’t like to receive. He is ungrateful because he doesn’t like to acknowledge his debt to others and gratitude is this acknowledgment; because he doesn’t like to give in return and gratitude is giving thanks in return; because he doesn’t like to share and he doesn’t like to give. What does gratitude give away? It gives away itself, like a joyful echo, as I said; and in this it is love, it is sharing, it is a gift. It is pleasure upon pleasure, happiness upon happiness, gratitude upon generosity. Aware only of his own satisfactions and his own happiness, hoarding them as a miser hoards his coin, watching over them as a miser watches his purse, the egoist cannot be grateful. Ingratitude is not the incapacity to receive but the inability to give back—In the form of joy or love—a little of the joy that was received or experienced. This is why ingratitude is so pervasive a vice. We absorb joy as others absorb light, for egoism is a black hole.Gratitude is a gift, gratitude is sharing, gratitude is love: it is a joy accompanied by the idea of its cause, as Spinoza would say, when the cause is another person’s generosity, or courage, or love.1 Joy in return is love in return. Strictly speaking, therefore, gratitude can be addressed only toward living persons. Nevertheless, it is worth asking ourselves whether any gotten joy, whatever its cause, might not be the object of this joy in return for which is gratitude. How could one not be grateful to the sun for existing? To life, to flowers, to birds? I could feel no joy were it not for the rest of the universe (since without the rest of the universe, I would not exist). In this respect all joy, even a purely internal or introspective one (Spinoza’s acquiescentia in se ipso), has an external cause that is the universe, God, or nature—in other words, all and everything.2 No one is the cause of himself or, in the end, of his own joy. All causal chains, of which there are an infinite number, are themselves infinite: all things are interrelated, and related to us, and flow through us. All love, taken to its logical extreme, should therefore love all things: all love should be a love of everything (the more we love individual things, Spinoza might say, the more we love God),3 a universal gratitude, then, one that, though certainly not undifferentiated (how could we have the same gratitude for birds as for snakes, for Mozart as for Hitler?), would nevertheless be comprehensive or at least thankful for everything. Excluding nothing and rejecting nothing, not even the worst of things, this gratitude would have to be a tragic gratitude, in the Nietzschean sense, since the real must be accepted or rejected as is, since the real in its totality is the only reality4Gratitude is gratuitous in that one cannot ask of it, or for it, any recompense whatsoever. Gratitude may be a duty, or in any case a virtue, but, as Rousseau notes, it cannot be demanded as a right and nothing can be demanded in its name.5 Gratitude is love, not a quid pro quo. It is responsive and inclined to act in behalf of the person who inspires it, not as an exchange of one favor for another (this would no longer be gratitude but barter)6 but because love wants to delight the person who delights us. It is in this way that gratitude almost invariably fosters generosity, which in turn fosters gratitude. Whence Spinoza’s characterization of gratitude as a “reciprocal love,” an “eagerness of love.” “Thankfulness or gratitude is a desire or eagerness of love, by which we strive to benefit one who has benefited us from a like affect of love.”7 Here is where we go from a purely affective gratitude (to use a Kantian term) to an active gratitude, from joy in return to action in return.8 To my mind, Spinoza does not so much define gratitude here as describe its consequences (we can, for example, be grateful to someone who is dead and whom we cannot benefit). But the distinction is unimportant. What is certain is that gratitude differs from ingratitude precisely in its ability to see in the other the cause of its joy (unlike self-love, which sees the cause of its joy only in the self).9 This is why ingratitude is dishonorable 10 and why gratitude is good and makes us good.“All things excellent are as difficult as they are rare,” Spinoza writes.11 In the case of this excellent thing called gratitude, it is the strength of self-love that accounts for its rarity or difficulty. We all tend to see the love we have received as reason for self-congratulation rather than as cause for gratitude, which is love for the other.12 “Pride refuses to owe, self-love to pay,” writes La Rochefoucauld.13 How could pride be anything but ungrateful, if it can only love, admire, and extol the self? There is humility in gratitude, and humility is difficult. Is it a sadness? According to Spinoza it is, a point we will return to in the next chapter. What gratitude teaches us, however, is that there is also such a thing as joyful humility, or humble joy, humble because it knows it is not its own cause or its own principle and, knowing this, rejoices all the more (what a pleasure to say thank you!); because it is love, and not primarily love of self; because it knows it is indebted, or rather—since there is nothing to repay—because it knows it has all it could wish for and more, more than it had hoped for or could have expected, all thanks to the existence of the very person or thing responsible for this joy—God if you are a believer, or the world, or a friend, or a stranger, or anything at all. Gratitude is humble because it knows it is graced, graced by existence, or by life, or by all things, and gives in return, not knowing to whom or how, simply because it is good to offer thanks—to give grace—in return, to rejoice in one’s own joy and love, whose causes are always beyond our comprehension but which contain us, make us live, and carry us along. The humility of Bach, the humility of Mozart, each so different (the former gives grace with unequaled genius; the latter, we might say, is grace itself) but both overwhelming in their happy gratitude, their true simplicity, their almost superhuman power; even in anguish and suffering, they have a serenity to them that stems from the knowledge of being an effect and not a cause, an effect contained in the very thing they sing, to which they owe their existence and which carries them along. Clara Haskil, Dinu Lipatti, or Glenn Gould could express this, it seems to me, at least when they were at their best, and the joy we feel in listening to them reveals to us what gratitude essentially is, namely joy itself, in as much as it is something received and received undeservedly (yes, even for the best of us!), a state of grace that is always giving itself over to an even higher state of grace, the grace of existing, or rather of existence itself, the essence of being, the principle behind all existence, all beings, all joy, all love. Yes, what we read in Spinoza’s Ethics we can also hear in music; best of all, it seems to me, in the works of Bach and Mozart (in Haydn what we hear is more on the order of politeness and generosity, in Beethoven courage, in Schubert gentleness, in Brahms fidelity). And so we see how lofty a virtue gratitude is, a virtue more for giants than for dwarfs. Not that we are thereby exempted from it: let us be grateful for grace, and first of all to those who reveal it to us by celebrating it.No man is the cause of himself: the spirit, Claude Bruaire says, “is in debt for its being.”14 That is not quite accurate, however, for no one ever asked to come into being (it is the loan, not the gift, that results in a debt), and no one could ever repay such a debt. Life is not a debt: life is a state of grace, and being is a state of grace; therein lies gratitude’s highest lesson.

Gratitude rejoices in what has taken place or in what is. It is therefore the opposite of regret or nostalgia (which aches for a past that never was or is no more); it is also the opposite of hope or apprehension, one desiring, the other fearing (both of them desiring and fearing) a future that is yet to come and in fact may never be but that tortures by its absence. Gratitude or anxiety, the joy of what is or was, versus the dread of what could be. “The fool’s life,” says Epicurus, “is empty of gratitude and full of fears; its course lies wholly toward the future”15 Those who are incapable of gratitude live in vain; they can never be satisfied, fulfilled, or happy: they do not live, they get ready to live, as Seneca puts it.16 Or as Pascal would say, they hope to live17 and then regret the life they lived or, more often, the life they did not live. They miss the past as well as the future. The wise man, on the contrary, takes delight in living and also rejoices in having lived. Gratitude (charis) is this joy of memory, this love of the past—it neither suffers over what no longer is nor regrets what has been but joyfully recalls what was. It is time regained—the past recaptured, if you will—“the grateful recollection of what has been,” says Epicurus—by which we understand that the idea of death is made immaterial, as Proust says, for even death, take us though it will, cannot take from us what we have lived.18 These are immortal blessings, observes Epicurus, not because we do not die but because death cannot nullify what we have lived, lived fleetingly but definitively.19 Death deprives us only of the future, which does not exist. Gratitude frees us from death, through the joyous knowledge of what was. Gratitude is acknowledgment, which is to say, knowledge (whereas hope is merely imagination); this is why gratitude touches on truth, which is eternal, and inhabits it. Gratitude is the enjoyment of eternity.Yet someone will say, in answer to Epicurus, that the recollection, however grateful, of what has been will not give us back the past or return what we have lost. But what can? Gratitude does not abolish grief; it completes it. “We must heal our misfortunes by the grateful recollection of what has been and by the recognition that it is impossible to make undone what has been done.”20 Is there any more beautiful formulation of the mourning process? Mourning is about accepting what is, hence also what no longer is, and loving it as such, in its truth, in its eternity, so that we can go from the unbearable pain of loss to the sweetness of remembrance, from unfinished mourning to its completion (“the grateful recollection of what has been”), from amputation to acceptance, from suffering to joy, from love rent apart to love appeased. “Sweet is the memory of the departed friend,” says Epicurus: gratitude is this sweetness itself, when it becomes joyous. Yet suffering at first is the stronger: “How awful that he should have died!” How can we ever accept it? That is why mourning is necessary, and so difficult and so painful. But joy returns in spite of everything: “How fortunate that he should have lived!” The process of mourning is a process of gratitude.

Kant and Rousseau think gratitude a duty.21 I’m not convinced. Moreover, I don’t really believe in duties. But that gratitude is a virtue, in other words, an excellence, of this we find ample proof in the obvious baseness of those who are incapable of gratitude and in the mediocrity of all of us, who are lacking in it. How easily hatred outlasts love! How much stronger resentment is than gratitude. Gratitude sometimes even turns into resentment, so exquisitely sensitive is self-love. As Kant writes, ingratitude toward one’s benefactor “is an extremely detestable vice in the public judgment, yet man is so notorious for it, that one thinks it not unlikely to make an enemy even by rendering a benefit.”22 The greatness of gratitude, the pettiness of man.And yet for all that, gratitude itself can sometimes warrant suspicion. La Rochefoucauld sees it as mere disguised self-interest,23 and Chamfort observes, correctly, that “there is a base kind of gratitude”— a disguised servility, a disguised egoism, disguised hope.24 Sometimes we offer thanks only so that we might continue to receive (we say “thank you” but we think “more!”). This is not gratitude but flattery, obsequiousness, mendacity. It is not a virtue but a vice. In fact, even sincere gratitude cannot exempt us from any other virtue or justify any wrongdoing. It is a secondary, though not a second-rate, virtue and must be kept in its proper place: justice or honesty might warrant a breach of gratitude, but gratitude never warrants a breach of justice or good faith. Suppose someone has saved my life: am I therefore obliged to give false testimony on his behalf and cause an innocent person to be condemned? Of course not! Whatever we may owe someone, we do not become ungrateful by keeping in mind what we owe everyone else, and ourselves. He is not ungrateful, writes Spinoza, “who is not moved by the gifts of a courtesan to assist her lust, nor by those of a thief to conceal his thefts, nor by those of anyone else like that. On the contrary, he shows firmness of mind who does not allow any gifts to corrupt him, to his or to the general ruin.”25 Gratitude is not connivance; nor is it corruption.

Again, gratitude is joy; it is love. In this respect it borders on charity, which Jankélévitch has likened to “an inchoate gratitude, an unfounded, unconditional gratitude, just as gratitude is a secondary or hypothetical charity.”26 Joy upon joy; love upon love. Gratitude, then, is the secret of friendship, not because we feel indebted to our friends, since we owe them nothing, but because we share with them an overabundance of common, reciprocal joy. “Friendship goes dancing round the world,” says Epicurus, “proclaiming to us all to awake to the praises of a happy life.”27 Thank you for existing, friends say to one another, and to the world and all the universe. This kind of gratitude is certainly a virtue, for it is the happiness of loving, the only happiness there is.

GRATITUDE1

Benedict de Spinoza, The Ethics, in A Spinoza Reader: The Ethics and Other Works, ed. Edwin Curley, Princeton University Press, 1994, III, def. 6 of the affects, p. 189 (“Love is a joy, accompanied by the idea of an external cause”).2

Spinoza’s term means self-esteem or, literally, peace with oneself, which he defines as “a joy born of the fact that a man considers himself and his own power of acting” (Spinoza, The Ethics, III, def. 25 of the affects, p. 192).3

Spinoza, The Ethics, V, P24.4

See, for example, Friedrich Nietzsche’s Will to Power, IV, nos. 462, 463, and 464.5

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on Inequality, in The First and Second Discourses and the Foundations of Inequality among Men, ed. and trans. Victor Gourevitch, Harper & Row, 1985, p. 188: “Gratitude is indeed a duty that ought to be performed, but it is not a right that can be exacted.”6

Spinoza, The Ethics, IV, P71, schol.7

Ibid., III, def. 34 of the affects, p. 194; see also III, P39 and 41, as well as P41, schol. (for the expression “reciprocal love”).8

Immanuel Kant, “Concerning the Duty of Gratitude,” in The Metaphysical Principles of Virtue, trans. James W. Ellington, Library of Liberal Arts, Bobbs-Merrill, 1964,p.119.9

Spinoza, The Ethics, III, P41, schol.10

Ibid., IV, P71, schol.11

Ibid., V, P42, schol., p. 265.12

Ibid., 111, P41, schol. This is why “men are far more ready for vengeance than for returning benefits” (p. 176).13

François La Rochefoucauld, Maxims and Reflections, trans. Leonard Tancock, Penguin, 1959, maxim 228, p. 67.14

Claude Bruaire, L’être et l‘esprit, PUF, 1983, p. 60. See also p. 198.15

Cited by Seneca, Ad Lucilium Epistulae Morales (The Epistles of Seneca), trans. Richard M. Gummere, William Heinemann, 1925, XV, 9, p. 101. Epicurus also says: “The ungrateful greed of the soul makes the creature everlastingly desire varieties of dainty food” (Epicurus: The Extant Remains, trans. Cyril Bailey, Clarendon Press, 1926, LXIX, p. 117). See Marcel Conche’s enlightening remarks in his edition of Epicurus, Lettres et maximes, PUF, 1987, pp. 52-53.16

Epicurus: The Extant Remains, XLV, 13, p. 299 (“non vivunt, sed victuri sunt”).17

Blaise Pascal, Pensées, trans. W. F. Trotter, Modern Library, Random House, 1941, no. 172, pp. 60-61.18

Epicurus, Letter to Menoeceus, 122, in Epicurus: The Extant Remains, p. 183. Epicurus’s expression seems to indicate (for otherwise it would be pleonastic) that, for him as for us, gratitude can apply to the present—even if, in the writings of Epicurus that have come down to us, it seems primarily linked to memory. But what is conscience, if not memory in and of the present?19

Epicurus, Letter to Menoeceus, 135.20

Epicurus: The Extant Remains, LV, p. 115. On mourning, see also my essay “Vivre, c’est perdre,” in the journal Autrement, no. 128.21

Rousseau, Discourse on Inequality, II, p. 188; Kant, The Metaphysical Principles of Virtue, § 32, p. 119.22

Kant, The Metaphysical Principles of Virtue, § 36, p. 124.23

At least as far as “most men” are concerned, for whom it is “but a covert desire to receive greater gifts” (maxim 298, Maxims, p. 76). See also maxims 223-26.24

B. Chamfort, Products of the Perfected Civilization: Selected Writings of Chamfort, trans. W. S. Merwin, Macmillan, 1969, p. 203.25

Spinoza, The Ethics, IV, P71, schol. See also P70, dem. and schol.26

Vladimir Jankélévitch, Traité des vertus, Champs-Flammarion, 1986, vol. 2, p. 250. See also vol. 1, pp. 112ff.27

Epicurus, Sentences vaticanes, 52, in Epicurus: The Extant Remains, p. 115.

About the Author

André Comte-Sponville is one of the most important of the new wave of young French philosophers. He teaches at the Sorbonne and is the author of five highly acclaimed scholarly books of classical philosophy as well as the hugely popular A Small Treatise on the Great Virtues, which is being translated into nineteen languages. Comte-Sponville lives in Paris.