Becoming a Knight of Faith
May. 10th, 2011 06:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
In my sections, we discussed the process by which a Knight of Infinite Resignation becomes, if she does, a Knight of Faith. The difference between the two Knights, we will recall, is that the KIR knows that her central wish is unattainable, is resigned to that, but continues to act as if it were attainable. The Knight of Faith knows her end is unattainable, and simultaneously believes it is.
Of the transition, Kierkegaard says this:
Now, what does this mean? Infinite resignation seems to be a necessary step towards faith. My interpretation of what happens is characteristically (of me) nonreligious. Holding on to a wish the world refuses to grant puts one at odds with the world, in a way. Two pages prior, K. emphases the KIR's imperviousness to the world: "one who has infinitely resigned is enough unto himself" (73). That is, the Knight will not "lose the resilience of resignation" if, say, something changes with respect to the object of her wish. ("There was a person who also believed he had made the movement, but time went by, the princess did something else, she married, say, a prince, and his soul lost the resilience of resignation. He knew then that he had not made the movement correctly" (73).)
'Eternal validity', I believe, is a sort of boundless self-sufficiency with regard to one's estimation of whatever it is that is one's central wish. What the world does, doesn't matter; and cannot matter. One's own heart will be enough, indefinitely; the wish itself will seem to be the right one, indefinitely. That seals one off from the world, but also imparts strength. (This may be the strength K. is talking about in the delightful passage on the shirt of tears that "also gives better protection than iron and steel" (74), and which one has to make for oneself.) But how does that independence of heart take us to believing that one both will and will not attain one's wish?
Kierkegaard often talks of the rest of the world depending, for the KoF, on the Knight's central wish. I'm not sure how to render this poetic expression more precise, except perhaps to say that the KoF perceives her wish first, and the rest of the world after. The thing that matters most--and there is only one thing, for a Knight--seems bigger, more salient. When one has one's central wish, every other thing in life becomes valuable through that. The Knight of Faith attains that state through faith, with the result that one cannot tell a Knight of Faith from an ordinary person who is enormously content in various domains of her life.
The transition from KIR to KoF is made possible by the KIF's independence. If it does not matter what the world, the princess, the object of one's wish does, then one's belief that obtaining the object of one's wish is impossible might as well be independent from evidence too. Once one realizes that one will have a wish regardless of what the world does, that wish itself will seem to have a kind of 'truth': it is true that it will always be one's wish, and as the most important thing in the world, it is a particularly 'solid' kind of truth. It's still a leap from "I will always love the princess most of all things in the world" to "I will get the princess (even though I know it's impossible)." But if one will always have one's central wish regardless of what the world does, one might as well believe one will get it. Perhaps having a wish in the way a Knight does--intimately, foundationally for one's value-structure--amounts to having the object of one's wish. The princess in some way belongs to the non-princely Knight by virtue of his wish.
Of the transition, Kierkegaard says this:
"Infinite resignation is the last stage before faith, so that anyone who has not made this movement does not have faith; for only in infinite resignation does my eternal validity become transparent to me, and only then can there be talk of grasping existence on the strength of faith" (75).
Now, what does this mean? Infinite resignation seems to be a necessary step towards faith. My interpretation of what happens is characteristically (of me) nonreligious. Holding on to a wish the world refuses to grant puts one at odds with the world, in a way. Two pages prior, K. emphases the KIR's imperviousness to the world: "one who has infinitely resigned is enough unto himself" (73). That is, the Knight will not "lose the resilience of resignation" if, say, something changes with respect to the object of her wish. ("There was a person who also believed he had made the movement, but time went by, the princess did something else, she married, say, a prince, and his soul lost the resilience of resignation. He knew then that he had not made the movement correctly" (73).)
'Eternal validity', I believe, is a sort of boundless self-sufficiency with regard to one's estimation of whatever it is that is one's central wish. What the world does, doesn't matter; and cannot matter. One's own heart will be enough, indefinitely; the wish itself will seem to be the right one, indefinitely. That seals one off from the world, but also imparts strength. (This may be the strength K. is talking about in the delightful passage on the shirt of tears that "also gives better protection than iron and steel" (74), and which one has to make for oneself.) But how does that independence of heart take us to believing that one both will and will not attain one's wish?
Kierkegaard often talks of the rest of the world depending, for the KoF, on the Knight's central wish. I'm not sure how to render this poetic expression more precise, except perhaps to say that the KoF perceives her wish first, and the rest of the world after. The thing that matters most--and there is only one thing, for a Knight--seems bigger, more salient. When one has one's central wish, every other thing in life becomes valuable through that. The Knight of Faith attains that state through faith, with the result that one cannot tell a Knight of Faith from an ordinary person who is enormously content in various domains of her life.
The transition from KIR to KoF is made possible by the KIF's independence. If it does not matter what the world, the princess, the object of one's wish does, then one's belief that obtaining the object of one's wish is impossible might as well be independent from evidence too. Once one realizes that one will have a wish regardless of what the world does, that wish itself will seem to have a kind of 'truth': it is true that it will always be one's wish, and as the most important thing in the world, it is a particularly 'solid' kind of truth. It's still a leap from "I will always love the princess most of all things in the world" to "I will get the princess (even though I know it's impossible)." But if one will always have one's central wish regardless of what the world does, one might as well believe one will get it. Perhaps having a wish in the way a Knight does--intimately, foundationally for one's value-structure--amounts to having the object of one's wish. The princess in some way belongs to the non-princely Knight by virtue of his wish.