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Hedgehogs, foxes, ....
May. 25th, 2009 10:12 pmI've noticed that the kinds of writing I am most at home reading are those that others are most likely to say they don't understand: e.g. Cavell, Emerson, the later Wittgenstein, some poetry (though I don't read much poetry anymore; too moving). Students, professors, and everyone else frowns at these texts, and I don't know why. I have been assuming that this differences reflects a failure on my part to require a high level of precision in order to understand something. There is at least an emotional difference in that my reaction to these things is not "that's confusing!" but "wow! I now need to read this two more times and try to map out what's going on."
According to the Berlin dichotomy, wherein "the fox knows many little things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing" I suspect these guys are hedgehogs (if there is one big thing in the later Wittgenstein, the one big thing is that there are instead many little things). Read this way, the distinction really marks level of abstraction. There is also an element of foxiness in each, though, since the writing of each is colorful, and draws from many sources. But they are not "foxy" in the way that Shakespeare or Montaigne are (neither of which I particularly like, in case what I like happens to be a good guide to the real features of these things).
The precisifying tools of contemporary philosophy are a way of attempting to concretize the relationships between abstract ideas. It is still faster to move outside of them, if you can. They may also function as evidence, and for some as aids to understanding. (I often find they stand in the way of understanding; though they may be of help in communicating my thoughts to others. I simply can't hold many stages of a proof in my mind, as I can a monologue or a day.)
I never, of course, try to write like Cavell or Emerson; I'm not even sure I could if I tried. But I always feel found-out whenever someone else says "X is so hard to understand!" and I say, "Really? That's what I love!" And I wonder if it's a real failing of mine that's being exposed, and if it's related to the difficulty I have finding people with whom I can think in an intuitive (natural) way, and if, failing or not, I will ever find a way of compensating for it.
According to the Berlin dichotomy, wherein "the fox knows many little things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing" I suspect these guys are hedgehogs (if there is one big thing in the later Wittgenstein, the one big thing is that there are instead many little things). Read this way, the distinction really marks level of abstraction. There is also an element of foxiness in each, though, since the writing of each is colorful, and draws from many sources. But they are not "foxy" in the way that Shakespeare or Montaigne are (neither of which I particularly like, in case what I like happens to be a good guide to the real features of these things).
The precisifying tools of contemporary philosophy are a way of attempting to concretize the relationships between abstract ideas. It is still faster to move outside of them, if you can. They may also function as evidence, and for some as aids to understanding. (I often find they stand in the way of understanding; though they may be of help in communicating my thoughts to others. I simply can't hold many stages of a proof in my mind, as I can a monologue or a day.)
I never, of course, try to write like Cavell or Emerson; I'm not even sure I could if I tried. But I always feel found-out whenever someone else says "X is so hard to understand!" and I say, "Really? That's what I love!" And I wonder if it's a real failing of mine that's being exposed, and if it's related to the difficulty I have finding people with whom I can think in an intuitive (natural) way, and if, failing or not, I will ever find a way of compensating for it.
