Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Bergson on Pity (1910)

The moral feelings might be studied in the same way. Let us take pity as an example. It consists in the first place in putting oneself mentally in the place of others, in suffering their pain. But if it were nothing more, as some have maintained, it would inspire us with the idea of avoiding the wretched rather than helping them, for pain is naturally abhorrent to us. This feeling of horror may indeed be at the root of pity; but a new element soon comes in, the need of helping our fellow-men and of alleviating their suffering. Shall we say with La Rochefoucauld that this so-called sympathy is a calculation, "a shrewd insurance against evils to come?” Perhaps a dread of some future evil to ourselves does hold a place in our compassion for other people's evil. These however are but lower forms of pity. True pity consists not so much in fearing suffering as in desiring it. The desire is a faint one and we should hardly wish to see it realized; yet we form it in spite of ourselves, as if Nature were committing some great injustice and it were necessary to get rid of all suspicion of complicity with her. The essence of pity is thus a need for self-abasement, an aspiration downwards. This painful aspiration nevertheless has a charm about it, because it raises us in our own estimation and makes us feel superior to those sensuous goods from which our thought is temporarily detached. The increasing intensity of pity thus consists in a qualitative progress, in a transition from repugnance to fear, from fear to sympathy, and from sympathy itself to humility (Bergson 1910, 18).


Henri Bergson. "The Intensity of Psychic States". Chapter 1 in Time and Free Will: An Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness, translated by F.L. Pogson, M.A.  London: George Allen and Unwin (1910): 1-74.


Dalí´s Labyrinth of Inspiration

Salvador Dalí (Spanish, 1904-1989). The Railway Station at Perpignan, 1965. Oil on canvas.
116 x 160 in. Museum Ludwig, Köln. 

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Temporariness and Courage

"I am an artist, and I have to have courage ... Do you know that I don't have any artworks that exist? They all go away when they're finished. Only the preparatory drawings, and collages are left, giving my works an almost legendary character. I think it takes much greater courage to create things to be gone than to create things that will remain."


-Christo Javachev


I love this quote. To me, it seems an inherent existential struggle as well as a struggle among our species that life is temporary. We are trivial in the scope of time, and I know that has to at least scare some of us. Berger and Luckmann comment in The Social Construction of Reality about how religion, for some, satiates that void by placing that potential meaningless in God's hand. Certainly, we must mean something then, right? I had always hoped to a recognized scholar, not so much during my life, but at least after I passed, influencing those who come after me. Though I still long to be an academic, it is to a lesser degree that I want to be remember. I'd rather change something without being noted for that ideal. Pessimistically unlikely, but yet that potential exists. This quote, however, shook me for a moment. He is right. What courage it must take to allow time devour you and your meaning, your work, your energy. Kudos to those who have such courage in our Brave New World. Live on strong, at least you are living for something.