Pessimism (In Affirmation of the Oncoming Train)

Still from Broken Down Film (1985), by Osamu Tezuka 

For details visit: michaelspornanimation.com

Arguably, pessimism is not a philosophy as such, more a philosophical attitude or disposition; what we might term a style of thinking. 

Thus whilst there is no school of pessimism, there are nonetheless certain very great thinkers whom we regard as pessimists and between them they constitute a noble tradition within philosophy. For pessimism is ultimately a form of intellectual integrity; that is to say, a form of honesty, courage, and realism in the face of the universe as it is (inhuman, non-vital, and accelerating towards annihilation). 

The term pessimism was first used scornfully by priestly critics of Voltaire to characterize and condemn his satirical attack upon the optimistic view held by Leibniz and others that this world - as the creation of a loving deity - was the best of all possible worlds. If you believe this - and thereby make an implicit theological commitment to metaphysics - then of course you will find yourself in opposition to every form of impersonal negativity, such as pessimism, or, in its more aggressive form, nihilism.

But of course, there are different forms of pessimism, as Nietzsche was at pains to point out.

On the one hand, he writes of a romantic pessimism born of suffering and impoverishment, which he associates most closely with the work of Schopenhauer and Wagner. On the other hand, he writes of an altogether different kind of pessimism that is neo-classical and futuristic in character; a Dionysian pessimism which refuses to sit in judgement and says Yes to all that is evil, absurd and ugly - not out of perversity or wilful decadence, but out of strength and richness.

Nietzsche's greatest insight is surely this: tragedy is a form of affirmation and pessimism can be an expression of the greater health; something that gives wings to the spirit and welcomes the oncoming train.             

Thanks to Simon Thomas for suggesting this post.

Kidney Stones of the Soul

Thomas Hirschhorn: Resistance-Subjecter (2011) 

Gladstone Gallery, NY and Brussels

According to folk psychologist James Hillman, there are psychic crystallizations formed by material experience and memories which potentially cause blockages in the unconscious. 

I suppose we might think of these as kidney stones of the soul; equally discomforting, though perhaps far more hazardous to the health and well-being of the individual if they can't find a way to dissolve these deposits and release the energy they contain in a positive manner. 

Ultimately, if you don't learn how to piss the past away then you run the risk of ever-increased calcification; that is to say, if you obsessively keep looking back upon a life gone by, then, like Lot's wife, you'll turn into a pillar of salt - and that's never pleasant.    

All of which brings us to Thomas Hirschhorn's terrifying sculpture entitled Resistance-Subjecter (2011), in which a group of mannequins - bodies violently exploded or eaten away from within as evidenced by gaping wounds and cavities - are in a process of becoming-mineral.     

I'm aware that the politically-engaged and philosophically-informed Hirschhorn has his own very clear ideas concerning his work. As a Marxist, he's obviously concerned with what he would think of as the hard reality of things and this piece could, for example, be read in these terms. 

But, for me, this work is more than that and more than simply a rather banal reflection on the objectification and commodification of the human being within consumer capitalism as one critic suggests; more too than merely a warning about the corrosive effect of the gaze. 

Rather, it's a reminder to drink plenty of water and never allow tiny elements of the self to harden too much: love that which melts into innocence and forgetfulness; hate that which solidifies and endures.      

Notes: 

The above work by Thomas Hirschhorn can be viewed as part of The Human Factor: The Figure in Contemporary Sculpture, an exhibition curated by Ralph Rugoff at the Hayward Gallery, London (17 June - 14 September).

Thanks to Dr. Simon A. Thomas for the insight into James Hillman. 

 

The Museum of Failed Products

 The Museum of Failed Products: Photo by Kelly K. Jones 

The Guardian, 15 June 2012

According to Oliver Burkeman, the vast majority of new consumer products - like new lifeforms - are destined to fail; to quickly and somewhat mysteriously be withdrawn from sale and so to vanish forever from the supermarket shelves back into the capitalist void.    

Or, more accurately, these thousands upon thousands of things - ranging from non-perishable food items and household goods to toiletries and innovations in pet care - find themselves stored for all eternity on the grey metal shelves of what has become known as the Museum of Failed Products. 

Operated by GfK and based in a business park outside the city of Ann Arbor in Michigan, the Museum of Failed Products is a place which at first makes you want to laugh and then, as the full horror of so much waste and failure hits home, makes you want to cry.

The Japanese have a phrase - mono no aware - which captures this bittersweet feeling, referring as it does to the pathos of things; i.e. to what we experience when confronted by the transient and tragicomic nature of existence and the futility of all human effort in the face of this.      

We can keep inventing, keep producing, and keep marketing new goods, but, ultimately, we too will end up being assigned a place on the shelves of the Museum of Failed Species. For just as the marketplace can do without yoghurt shampoo or breakfast cola, so too can the universe do without us.


Link: Oliver Burkeman's article in The Guardian that inspired this post can be found at: 
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2012/jun/15/happiness-is-being-a-loser-burkeman

My thanks to Simon Thomas for initially bringing this article to my attention. 

In Praise of Shyness

It's wrong to always identify shyness negatively as a form of social anxiety or awkwardness due to low self-esteem, or some other psychological failing.

In fact, I tend to agree with the poet and philosopher Simon Thomas who writes that there is nothing more seductive than a certain reticence in the object of one's desire and that - at its most adorable - the trait of shyness can be characterized as a withholding of luminosity, i.e. that which radiates like a tiny star within the body of the beloved and makes such a dazzling impression (causing blindness and preventing speech).   

Besides, what's the alternative? The super-confident, self-assertive types who have shamelessly forgotten how to blush and never know when to lower their eyes or keep their big mouths closed? 

No thanks. For me, the bold are very rarely beautiful ...  

On Sadism and the Case of Ian Brady

For a genuine sadist any form of legality is anathema and deserving of contempt; they are simply not aroused out of flaccid indifference and apathy by the thought of a consensual exercise of sexual violence. This is what makes such an individual far rarer, far more dangerous, and far more philosophically problematic than a masochist for whom cruelty is always contracted, rather than criminal.

And so it is that whilst the latter hangs about looking slightly ludicrous and self-conscious at the local fetish club, the former is out burying the bodies of murdered children on Saddleworth Moor. 

What I'm conceding here is that Simon Thomas was perhaps - perhaps - right to insist that Ian Brady cannot be ignored or dismissed simply as a bad reader.