More reprints from Valancourt

Valancourt continues it’s much appreciated reissue programme of CW’s fictive works with The World of Violence and The Man without a Shadow. Here’s the blurb for the former, a neglected gem in the Wilson canon….
As a child, the brilliant mathematical prodigy Hugh Greene’s two major influences were his eccentric old uncles, Nick and Sam. From Uncle Nick, Hugh learned a love of mathematics, which came to represent clarity and order, and from Uncle Sam he acquired an overwhelming fear of violence. Now seventeen and unsure of what to do with his life and whether life is even worth bothering with at all, Hugh finds his hatred of violence becoming even more intense when he witnesses a gang of brutal thugs beating an innocent man. Determined to protect himself, he purchases a gun and joins a pistol club. But when he becomes involved with a senseless shooting and gets mixed up with a group of criminals, including a sex murderer, Hugh will be forced to confront the question of whether his mathematics and philosophy have any relevance in a world of violence. . . .

Colin Wilson’s third novel, The World of Violence (1963), is a fascinating and gripping story that critic Sidney Campion called ‘one of the most complex and satisfying bildungsromans ever written in English.’ This new edition of Wilson’s brilliant novel, the first in more than twenty years, includes a new introduction by Nicolas Tredell.

On Death – extended

A longer version of On Death by CW scholar Vaughan Rapatahana. His compendium of CW critique, Philosophical (a)Musings is available now. A portion of his PhD thesis – Wilson as Mystic – is still available from Paupers’ Press.

On Death

Introduction:

It is time to take far more seriously our universal lack of emphasis on the event of death, which would seem – of course – a direct reversal of asking why life occurs in the first place, but which is not a corollary at all, for life is a given. Being is undeniable. So when, for example, Albert Camus cried:

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.

He was well wrong. We are already extant and will die anyway, regardless of his ‘freedom of choice.’ Suicide is merely an early enrollment in the final graduation programme.

I am inclined rather to concur with a writer like Ray Brassier, who tells us that in fact that it is precisely because there is death and ultimate extinction, that there is any life at all, thus any philosophy at all: “that it is only because life is conditioned by its own extinction that there is thought at all” as he scribes in his seminal tome Nihil Unbound: Enlightenment and Extinction (2007.) Philosophy is more truly a partner to non-Being. The truly serious and prime philosophical problem transmutes, then, to dealing with Death. Yet, of course, this subject of death has never been a ‘hot’ topic for most philosophers. It seems that there is a general lack of desire to even consider this universalized inevitability.

So, why do we all eventually, some far too soon, depart the scene? Why is there the deterioration of age and the often sad slink into Nothingness as opposed to Being, given that biologists will explain this as the inevitable degeneration of cells, and evolutionists will proclaim the need for death so as to encourage the next batches of life and as to maintain some living space for such?

My question is, however, a meta-question, seeking to override microcosmic physiological descriptions of this bodily degeneration and asking ‘Why is there Death, with a capital D?’ Why do we not look at others and see that in every living moment and with absolute clarity that one day they will no longer Be, and then not recoil in shock, in dread? Why are we also so damnably reluctant to self-acknowledge that our own death is inevitable? On a related or personal level, to even talk about it – our own death – down at the local? To even draw up specific death plans for our beloved to refer to when we do drop? We are necessarily contingent in hyperchaos, to paraphrase Quentin Meillassoux, but don’t ever seem to existentially internalize this.

Indeed thinkers as diverse as George Gurdjieff and Martin Heidegger expressly point out, over and over again, this inauthentic non-facing by up ‘Mankind’ to the sheer fact of Death at any given micro-second. Heidegger proclaims that ‘being-towards-death’ alone, as based on a profound experience of free-floating dread, can impel mankind towards some profound sense of their inevitable and impending and potentially immediate death at any given moment and thus enable them to grasp the sheer significance their life far more tightly. For Heidegger, once an individual is fully internally cognizant of their ability to die, they can commence to authentically exist. “As soon as man comes to life, he is at once old enough to die” (Heidegger, Being and Time,1962.) More, states, Heidegger, as expressly described by Diane Zorn (Heidegger’s Philosophy of Death, Akademia, 1991): “I alone will die my death. Since only I can know what it means for me to be going to die, death cannot be shared by anyone.”

Zorn summarizes here: “[Heidegger] interprets death as a meaningful possibility by showing that death is an existential awareness of possible not-being (ibid.)” – which, for me, at least, ties into what Brassier is himself stating: that non-being is the Ultimate Truth, given that Brassier himself would palpably see Heidegger as part of the Continental ‘correlationist’ tradition he – and other Speculative Realists – firmly disavow. Indeed Brassier sees Death as a totally non-human presence, an inevitability, or as Jon Lindblom (online, 2012) puts it so succinctly: “This is not a death that makes sense in our world – that is, the death of the individual that shapes our horizon and molds our project (Heidegger) – but an impersonal death, which, in a way, means that the philosopher is already dead, since philosophy is nothing but the anticipation (or ‘organon’, as Brassier puts it) of our own extinction, and the fact that we are already extinct, since we are not what we thought we were. Not rational agents operating in a meaningful world, but physical systems interacting in a flat, spatialized exteriority.” Brassier subtracts an individual ‘s eminent epistemological existence from the equation.

The Avoidance:

As opposed to this is the far more prevalent ‘they-self’ syndrome, whereby the crowd of mass-man/woman so influences an individual as to avoid facing up to Death, to in fact deplete it as a subject to not even think about, a “constant tranquilization about death… an untroubled indifference” (Heidegger, 1962.) Zorn once more: “The they-self tempts us to convince ourselves that death is not really our own, tranquillizes us against death-awareness because it cannot be shared by others, and thus alienates us from our authentic self by concealing death.”

Heidegger was here not alone in his notification about man’s forgetfulness of death, for: “Gurdjieff also said that people live as if they were going to live forever. In the back of their minds, they have the assumption that they’re immortal, even though they know intellectually that it’s not true” (Kevin Langdon, online, 1986) But – similarly to Heidegger, again – he also noted that: “one has moments of feeling one’s mortality, it begins to create that sense of urgency which is needed in order to remember to make efforts…He placed great emphasis on awareness of the inevitability of one’s own death. And he also suggested that it is useful to remember the mortality of everyone on whom, as he put it, “your eyes or attention rests” (ibid.)

Without doubt, the ‘they-self’ certainly reigns supreme. People die. At times their passing (to what? to where?) is recorded or mourned – and indeed, in the cases of ‘celebrities’ lengthy, often obsequious, obituaries are penned – but there is no serious questioning as to ‘Why is this person dead?’ The living all too often seize upon the occasion of death more to festoon themselves in pity, to self-gratify, as opposed to fully cognize the finality involved and declare an honest empathy for another’s departure once and for all. Sometimes a media medium also leaps onto a bizarre way of dying as a news item worthy of soliciting a wider gratuitous readership. More, certain other agencies actually profit from the proliferation of death: funeral directors, firearm sellers aka ‘merchants of death’, some bloodthirsty egotistical generals and politicians. They don’t want death to die out at all. But few, if any, take Death on board on their all too contingent voyage through life.

Worse still, if mass death occurs – particularly if it took place in non-Western countries – it is soon forgotten and quickly papered over by Western media sources, if it is even covered at all in the first place. Yet the departure of some long-forgotten Hollywood ‘star’ still rates a mention in TIME magazine. Over 1000 Filipinos wiped out in one day in Mindanao in early 2013 scarcely rates a mention in its white pages.

Death has become as undervalued as Life and is all so easily accomplished via – for example – a reckless handgun or for a helmet-less motorbike rider; through a mass-stoning or an immolation; in the midst of a suicide bombing (itself an aberration whereby one death leads to many deaths, supposedly to avenge still more deaths) or a state-sponsored execution, whereby another death somehow atones for earlier instances of same. All somewhat nutty behaviour, for the avoidance of the existential fact of death soothes the way for an incremental number of deaths..

We have become as desensitized to Death – witness the number of ‘kills’ racked up in any typical video game extravaganza – as we have to the preciousness of Life. Death is merely ‘accepted’ in passing and we quite literally quickly pass on to the next topic.

All rather odd. We should be fighting this death business as it is a manifest cop-out to be living for a certain amount of time, to accomplish a range of sometimes splendid activities, to love, to hate, to emote, to form strong bonds with loved ones and friends, and then to depart for good. This is the ‘true’ absurd, really. We should be placing far more serious attention on living, living longer, living better, fighting this death machinery. We are returning a gift to the store before it is fully appreciated. Here is where Colin Wilson, for example, clearly pointed out how ‘traditional’ Existentialism – a la Camus as one example – ‘failed’: it assumed suicide was somehow a freedom from death. In reality, suicide is merely impelling the inevitable.

Colin Wilson strides forward:

Now several thinkers have attempted to adumbrate prescriptions as to gaining more life, going further into life. Colin Wilson, again, comes to mind as a prime example – with his Introduction to the New Existentialism (1966) as just one earlier manifestation of his credo, where he also attempts to transcend Martin Heidegger’s own rather stoical appraisal of Death. However, Wilson only goes so far and ignores completely bodily death, indeed bodily presence per se. Indeed his whole thrust is purely a ‘mental’ one (I had pointed out in my own work, for example Wilson as Mystic, 2001 and more comprehensively in my earlier 1996 thesis, that Wilson writes as someone who tends to diminish, even detest body functions, as shown in his early novels in particular.) More, he also of course almost totally ignores bodily death (and disease and destruction in a wider social realm) to the absurd degree – especially early in his career – that he frequently proclaimed his own self-belief that he would sentiently live, if not forever, at least to age so as to run well over any human ‘norm’. Brassier – again, however – would claim that humanity has many self-important ‘conceits’ such as this, that require dismantling.

Sadly, Wilson never had a completely holistic approach to flogging death into submission, although all credit to him for stressing the impellment to far more life, to plunge more fully into the life-stream. However sheer mental strength or willpower is not simply going to defeat death, thus boost longevity. Wilson proclaimed in a 2003 interview with Geoff Ward (online): “Our purpose in the world is eventually to enable spirit to conquer matter, to get into matter to such an extent that there is no longer any matter.” This would seem an oversimplified underestimation of what is real, out there, extant beyond Mankind and what Wilson describes as “pure mind, intellect” (ibid.) Again, recent and younger thinkers such as Graham Harman and others of the Collapse ilk would categorically state that, as Ray Brassier noted in Nihil Unbound: “It is no longer thought that determines the object, whether through representation or intuition, but rather the object that seizes thought and forces it to think it, or better according to it.” Everything is in epistemological reversal.

Other striations:

Moving along, yes, there are also some historical approaches to this death business. A plenitude of ‘traditional’ religions such as Christianity and Islam have endeavoured – not particularly convincingly for this writer – to generate myths about Heaven (and Hell for that matter) and souls as a sop to the living, as a quasi-rationale for being here in the first place. But they don’t actually convince anyone with a modicum of sense that there is a need for death in the first place. They all too often grate as fairy tales told by school kids. These tales do not rate as serious rationalizations as to why we should die and indeed give the lie to what actually does eventuate when we die – we rot away. Simple as that.

Jesus Christ and Prophet Mohammad are long gone, R.I.P. They are not coming back. They are dead. Ironically, however, some of the living are also making great capital from them – priests, pontiffs and prelates. As well as imams and insurrectionists.

Then there are the parapsychological parrots who prate the ‘existence’ of near-death and return-from-death and reincarnation experiences as ‘evidence’ that in fact bodily death is not the be all and end all of existence. Leaving aside the huge miasmatic glob concerning bodies as opposed to something non-physical and nominated as ‘minds’ – itself a contentious and increasingly unlikely divide – there remains still no defining and cogent evidence that such ‘death’ experiences prove anything whatsoever and that – in fact – the sheer amorphousness of such ‘experiences’ serves to completely cloud the issue as to their veracity. There hasn’t ever been a 50% – let alone a 100% verifiable case –of a returned ‘departee’ and/or an extant ‘eternalee’, given – once again – the emphatic words of Colin Wilson in his account of afterlife. More, when Wilson says “But I do feel, nevertheless, that life after death is basically true, that we don’t actually die…it seems to me it’s just a basic fact” (ibid.) he could well be accused of making an almost Camus-type statement, which would certainly be the last thing on his mind. For if we don’t die and yet somehow transcend physiological existence (something Wilson, in all his earnestness, has yet to convince us of), why on Earth bother to hang around on Earth at all?

It is a major – no, I would go further and state that it is the prime concern that we all should face far more front-on – that in 2013 we still have no final consensus as to any proven post-biological-death existence in any field whatsoever. Quite the opposite, in fact, as science and neurophysiology in particular narrow the gaps in our knowledge, toward a completely physiological construction of the human frame. Both body and mind dwindle into one. Do you know anyone who has actually been resurrected, other than via electric shock therapy or strenuous heart massage? Do you know the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus? Enough said.

Except that I would also like to – somewhat ironically – further say here that it doesn’t actually matter if there is some sort of rather unlikely “another level of existence” (Wilson, ibid.) for bodily death does not necessarily negate a ‘life after death. However my consistent point throughout this essay is that this wayward possibility is not important for us as Being here now, and most definitely always facing our impending demises at any given nano-second, while no one essentially wants to actually dive into a Wilson-type afterlife either. Think also about the thoughts of another Speculative Realist, Martin Haggland: “Immortality is impossible…also it is not desirable in the first place” (Radical Atheist Materialism: A Critique of Meillassoux The Speculative Turn, 2011.) See also my points in the Postscript below.

A Sort of Summary:

All of which leads us back to the beginning of this essay: why is there Death as opposed to Life and why aren’t we far more mystified, concerned, in alarm, confused, aware than we most evidently are? We all require an immediate epiphany as to our impending demise at any given moment, whereby questions of ‘personal identity’ as to who/what actually dies are superseded immediately as irrelevant. Why aren’t we in awe that we all will die, that some of us will die in an alarmingly surprising and unpredictable way, and more wondrously, that we waste so much of our time actually encouraging our respective and unnecessary demise through idiotic dietary habits and smoking; through stupendously stupid testosterone-fuelled warfare and the curiously American penchant for building up more and more grotesquely, more and more new-fangled weapons of mass destruction; through to a belligerent turning a blind eye to the millions starving to death and dying of curable diseases; and to the thousands being blown up by the landmines left behind after another failed ‘liberating mission’? We – or at least many of us – also steadfastly destroy our environment so as to hasten our own contingent obliteration. We seem to encourage our own demise! We go out of our ways to actually increase the chances of death, yet are inevitably very wary of our own individual extinguishing. Obliteration will happen to us all anyway – so why are we so Hell bent on hastening it?

For no one – with the exception of the clinically depressed or the heavily euthanasiac – wishes to die. When that final curtain is being drawn down, we do our utmost to keep it open, given our bodies have not become too enfeebled to even resist.

So, why don’t we have far more departments of Death Studies in all of our educational institutions right now? International forums and colloquiums? Commissions of enquiry? Prizes for coming up with some actual answers to what should always be the main question: why do we (need to) die – although, admittedly, there are now some such awards for extending life spans? Why is Death such a prime overlooked component of our Lives, given what Heidegger noted about the ‘they-self’? Why do we basically ignore it, yet are happy enough to watch the F.A. Cup final in its incessant shadow? Death is not retreating, it’s not going away. It’s just outside our windows. It’s on the soccer pitch. It lurks in the grandstands and in the pubs outside after the match.

What are we doing here is not asking a question pertaining to why we are alive. Rather it is this query: why do we die and why aren’t we staring this BIG question in the face?

Do not accept another death without at the very least questioning it, fighting it, killing it. By confronting this dragon we may well slay it once and for all.

Life is a given. Death can be otherwise. Don’t let Death kill you.

On saying this – there are some who, even as I write, are practicing what I am preaching. See below:
Important Postscript:

It is at this stage that I would like to stress the significance of thinkers such as Ray Kurzweil with his ‘Law of Accelerating Returns’ and Aubrey de Gray – who both stress that man can and will live for far longer and that, indeed, there is no reason whatsoever why they cannot live forever.

Kurzweil: “I and many other scientists now believe that in around 20 years we will have the means to reprogramme our bodies’ stone-age software so we can halt, then reverse, ageing. Then nanotechnology will let us live forever…So we can look forward to a world where humans become cyborgs, with artificial limbs and organs” (The Sun, 2009.)

For Kurzweil this is a scientific inevitability – just as it is for him the fact that The Singularity will necessarily eventuate very soon via scientific development: the revelation in essence of the “Meaning of Life.’ Obviously, for him also, this is a very long way from the human-centred credos of Colin Wilson and his quoted experts such as Dr Darryl Reanney: “Time and self are outgrown husks which consciousness will one day discard” (Reanney, quoted in Wilson’s 2003 interview.) Ironically here, both Wilson and Kurzweil would – albeit from diametrically different tangents – support the notion of an impending singular explanation to ‘it all.’

What it all comes down to, for Ray Kurzweil however, is an initially purely physiological being, itself being augmented via a concatenation of technological bits and pieces so as to be able to continue ad infinitum and whereby consciousness would consist of perhaps not just brain cells, but a vast array of non-living implants so as to increase an individual life span to such a degree that there would be not only no ‘need’ for an afterlife, but that consciousness as Wilson et al sight it, has long since ceased to exist. As would what Colin Wilson equates to a transcendental ego-ed human – however god-like he envisages suchlike – per se. Indeed, even Wilson’s other quoted expert in the same source, Dr. Peter Fenwick with his belief that: “Mind may exist outside the brain and may be better understood as a field, rather than just the actions of neurons in the brain,” would seem to be abnegated by the potential scientific usurpation of Death. (Whither then, also, would be the transcendental ego-ed individual mind, one asks?)

For Aubrey de Grey (2005, online) also, longevity and ultimate eternal life are inevitabilities. His Engineered Negligible Senescence (SENS) project aims to overcome the seven causes of aging so that: “Basically we’ll have made the age related problems that we suffer from these days no longer an inevitable consequence of being alive…Once the technology is available, nearly everybody is going to want it…I think it’s reasonable to suppose that one could oscillate between being biologically 20 and biologically 25 indefinitely.” Like Kurzweil, de Grey sees considerable work on vaccines, drugs, gene therapy, stem cell therapy – and “much more high tech stuff” (ibid.) and even goes so far as to preach the ‘reversability’ of aging! His institute also runs the Methuselah Mouse prize for breakthroughs in extending the lifespans of mice and it is already worth over one million dollars – very similar here to Mark Zuckerburg et al’s Breakthrough Prize in Life Science, whereby awardees will have demonstrated evidence and the sequential steps to go about extending human life per se.

To me, Kurzweil and de Gray have confronted Death in the sense that they have argued for the abnegation of Death and are making determined efforts to bring this state about. This is a radically different negation or at least denial of the inevitable process of Death from that of the ‘they-self’ and also from the way in which Romantic idealists like Colin Wilson envisage Mankind somehow extending his or her consciousness both in life and in some potentially spectral afterlife – indeed they are insinuating the non-need for this to even need to happen in their basically socialist, non-elitist formulations of the inevitably available life-extension processes for everybody. Obviously, of course, both these factions in this tripartite equation as covered in this rather speculative article have come some considerable way from Heidegger and his belief that death is “not to be out-stripped” (ibid.) Quite the contrary.

The interesting aspect now is to explore briefly just how the Speculative Realists (the other faction) – who definitely share with them (de Gray, Kurzweil et al) the need for the superimposed status of ‘scientific rationalism’ and therefore the persuasive charter of the neurophysiologists – would segue into the notions and pragmatic explorations of de Gray and Kurzweil who are right out there, so to speak, in pushing science into the contemporary-beyond. To me, the two poles now split far apart: Brassier intends the: “trauma of scientific thought, the nihilism that inevitably goes with it, and the fact that this trauma indexes something unconditioned by human thought: something that has no interest in common with human survival or instrumentality” (Lindblom, ibid.) That given, science’s revelation of an ultimate universal meaninglessness does not also negate its ability to prolong life, human survival despite this: its mission is to introduce eternity on Earth. The overthrow of (Brassier’s) extinction is possible?

Then there is the quite odd Quentin Meillassoux: “Meillassoux believes that we can trace out the shape of the next event that will transcend humanity as we know it. Humanity’s great failing for Meillassoux is the cold, hard reality of death, which keeps human intellect from fulfilling its vocation to grasp the infinite. One might hope for something like the immortality of the soul in order to overcome this obstacle, but this would not fit the pattern that Meillassoux had established for the previous events. All of those transformative events rested on the foundation of the stage before it, while the immortality of the soul would simply leave embodied human existence (and hence the organic and material levels that provide its foundation) behind. The next stage of humanity must be material, must be organic and bodily — but it will be immortal. What’s more, this event will not apply solely to those who happen to be living when it happens. It must overcome the death of all human beings, allowing them to fulfill their vocation. Adam Kotsko (2012, online.) Meillassoux’s apocalyptic and radical vision would seem to be anticipating the plausible future arrival of some mega-human individual – God if you will – who will bring about eternity and a form of atonement even for the already departed. Echoes of Colin Wilson, actually!

The more practical response, methinks, would be to concur with Kurzweil et al and state that Death and extinction of Mankind – after all – may not be so damned inevitable, given the sheer alien non-humanity of its scope – and may be overcome. Lindblom (ibid.) yet again: “We might understand what he [Brassier] says, but then we still go shopping, talk about selves, emotions and so on.” Exactly – the ‘they-self’ continues to abjure such radically worrying visions of existence. I can only further emphasize from my own personal experience that when push comes to shove the desire to retain individual life overwhelms the drive to die, even in the face of a nihilistic universe: at death’s door, one finally wants to come back inside.

Now, with de Gray et al’s efforts my initial meta-question may well never need to be posed after all. Not only will we never die, we will also manifestly not be what we are now. There are – obviously – a wide raft of ethical and practical conundrums after this – to do with pragmatic realities as regards affordability and suitability of eternal candidature. More significantly, everything I have stressed here doesn’t die away: unless we overhaul to the silly ways we encourage death on this planet, we will continue to inhabit some death-denying ‘they world’ whereby we are gifted eternity or at the very least longevity beyond our ken, but stab ourselves in our own backs by our
Death lethargy. We all still need to be in awe of Death. It won’t ever actually depart.
All the more rationale to fight Death with every plausible weapon we have, eh.

Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it. W. Somerset Maugham

Personal Note:

Vaughan Rapatahana’s life has been a swill in death. Death had always been a shadow, losing parents and children far too early and unnecessarily. And he can certainly vouch that Albert Camus’ ‘solution’ didn’t work for him.

Now he wouldn’t wish Death on anyone, anywhere. Life is for seizing forever.

On Death by Vaughan Rapatahana

On Death

It is time to take far more seriously our universal lack of emphasis on the event of death, which seems – of course – a direct reversal of asking why life occurs in the first place, but which is not a corollary at all, for life is a given. Being is undeniable. So when, for example, Albert Camus cried:

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.

He was well wrong. We are already extant and will die anyway, regardless of his ‘freedom of choice.’

I am inclined rather to concur with a writer like Ray Brassier, who tells us that in fact that it is precisely because there is death and ultimate extinction, that there is any life at all, thus any philosophy at all: “that it is only because life is conditioned by its own extinction that there is thought at all” as he scribes in his seminal tome Nihil Unbound: Enlightenment and Extinction (2007.) Philosophy is more truly a partner to non-Being. The truly serious philosophical problem transmutes to dealing with Death.

So, why do we all eventually, some far too soon, depart the scene? Why is there the deterioration of age and the often sad slink into Nothingness as opposed to Being, given that biologists will explain this as the inevitable degeneration of cells, and evolutionists will proclaim the need for death so as to encourage the next batches of life and as to maintain some living space for such?

My question is, however, a meta-question, seeking to override physiological descriptions of this bodily degeneration and asking ‘Why is there Death, with a capital D?’ Why do we not look at others and see that in every living moment and with absolute clarity that one day they will no longer Be, and then not recoil in shock, in dread? Why are we also so damnably reluctant to self-acknowledge that our own death is inevitable? On a related or micro level, to even talk about it – our own death – down at the local? To draw up specific death plans for our beloved to refer to when we do drop? We are necessarily contingent, to paraphrase Quentin Meillassoux, but don’t seem to existentially internalize this..

People die. At times their passing (to what? to where?) is recorded or mourned – and indeed, in the cases of ‘celebrities’ lengthy, often obsequious, obituaries are penned – but there is no serious questioning as to ‘Why is this person dead?’ The living all too often seize upon the occasion of death more to festoon themselves in pity, to self-gratify, as opposed to fully cognize the finality involved and declare an honest empathy for another’s departure once and for all. Sometimes a media medium also leaps onto a bizarre way of dying as a news item worthy of soliciting a wider gratuitous readership. More, certain other agencies actually profit from the proliferation of death: funeral directors, firearm sellers aka ‘merchants of death’, some bloodthirsty egotistical generals and politicians. They don’t want death to die out at all.

Worse still, if mass death occurs – particularly if it took place in non-Western countries – it is soon forgotten and quickly papered over by Western media sources, if it even covered at all in the first place. Yet the departure of some long-forgotten Hollywood ‘star’ still rates a mention in TIME magazine. 1000 Filipinos wiped out in Mindanao scarcely rates a mention in its white pages.

Death has become as undervalued as Life and is all so easily accomplished via – for example – a reckless handgun or for a helmet-less motorbike rider; through a mass-stoning or an immolation; in the midst of a suicide bombing (itself an aberration whereby one death leads to many deaths, supposedly to avenge still more deaths) or a state-sponsored execution, whereby another death somehow atones for earlier instances of same. All somewhat nutty behaviour.

We have become as desensitized to Death – witness the number of ‘kills’ racked up in any typical video game extravaganza – as we have to the preciousness of Life. Death is merely ‘accepted’ in passing and we quite literally quickly pass on to the next topic.

All rather odd. We should be fighting this death business as it is a manifest cop-out to be living for a certain amount of time, to accomplish a range of sometimes splendid activities, to love, to hate, to emote, to form strong bonds with loved ones and friends, and then to depart for good. This is the ‘true’ absurd, really. We should be placing far more serious attention on living, living longer, living better, fighting this death machinery. We are returning a gift to the store before it is fully appreciated. Here is where Colin Wilson, for example, clearly pointed out where ‘traditional’ Existentialism – a la Camus as one example – ‘failed’: it assumed suicide was somehow a freedom from death.

Now several thinkers have attempted to adumbrate prescriptions as to gaining more life, going further into life. Colin Wilson, again, comes to mind as a prime example – with his Introduction to the New Existentialism (1966) as just one earlier manifestation of his credo. However, Wilson only goes so far and ignores completely bodily death, indeed bodily presence per se. Indeed his whole thrust is purely a ‘mental’ one (I had pointed out in my own work, for example Wilson as Mystic, 2001 and more comprehensively in my earlier thesis, that Wilson writes as someone who tends to diminish, even detest body functions, as shown in his early novels in particular.) More, he also of course totally ignores death (and disease and destruction in a wider social realm) to the absurd degree – especially early in his career – that he frequently proclaimed his own self-belief that he would live, if not forever, at least to age to run well over any human ‘norm’. Brassier – again – would claim that humanity has many ‘conceits’ such as this, that require dismantling.

Sadly, Wilson never had a completely holistic approach to flogging death into submission, although all credit to him for stressing the impellation to far more life, to plunge more fully into the lifestream. However sheer mental strength or willpower is not simply going to defeat death, thus boost longevity.

Yes, there are also some historical approaches to this death business. A plenitude of ‘traditional’ religions such as Christianity and Islam have endeavoured – not particularly convincingly for this writer – to generate myths about Heaven (and Hell for that matter) and souls as a sop to the living, as a quasi-rationale for being here in the first place. But they don’t actually convince anyone with a modicum of sense that there is a need for death in the first place. They all too often grate as fairy tales told by school kids. These tales do not rate as serious rationalizations as to why we should die and indeed give the lie to what actually does eventuate when we die – we rot away. Simple as that.

Jesus Christ and Prophet Mohammad are long gone, R.I.P. They are not coming back. They are dead. Ironically, however, some of the living are also making capital from them – priests, pontiffs and prelates. As well as imans and insurrectionists.

Then there are the parapsychological parrots who prate the ‘existence’ of near-death and return-from-death and reincarnation experiences as ‘evidence’ that in fact bodily death is not the be all and end all of existence. Leaving aside the huge miasmatic glob concerning bodies as opposed to something non-physical and nominated as ‘minds’ – itself a contentious and increasingly unlikely divide – there remains still no defining and cogent evidence that such ‘death’ experiences prove anything whatsoever and that – in fact – the sheer amorphousness of such ‘experiences’ serve to completely cloud the issue as to their veracity. There hasn’t ever been a 50% – let alone a 100% verifiable case –of a returned ‘departee’ and/or an extant ‘eternalee’, given – once again – the emphatic words of Colin Wilson in his account of afterlife.

It is a major – no, I would go further and state that it is the prime concern that we all should face far more front-on – that in 2013 we still have no final consensus as to any proven post-biological-death existence in any field whatsoever. Quite the opposite, in fact, as science and neuro-physiology in particular narrow the gaps in our knowledge, toward a completely physiological construction of the human frame. Both body and mind decease as one. Do you know anyone who has actually been resurrected, other than via electric shock therapy or strenuous heart massage? Do you know the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus? Enough said.

All of which leads us back to the beginning of this essay: why is there Death as opposed to Life and why aren’t we far more mystified, concerned, in alarm, confused, aware than we most evidently are? We all require an immediate epiphany as to our impending demise at any given moment, whereby questions of ‘personal identity’ as to who/what actually dies are superseded immediately as irrelevant. Why aren’t we in awe that we all will die, that some of us will die in an alarmingly surprising and unpredictable way, and more wondrously, that we waste so much of our time actually encouraging our respective and unnecessary demise through idiotic dietary habits and smoking, through stupendously stupid testosterone-fuelled warfare, through a belligerent turning a blind eye to the millions starving to death and dying of curable diseases and to the thousands being blown up by the landmines left behind after another failed ‘liberating mission’? We – or at least many of us – also steadfastly destroy our environment so as to hasten our own contingent obliteration. We seem to encourage our own demise! We go out of our ways to actually increase the chances of death, yet are inevitably very wary of our own individual extinguishment. Obliteration will happen to us all anyway – so why hasten it?

For no one – with the exception of the clinically depressed or the heavily euthanasiac – wishes to die. When that final curtain is being drawn down, we do our utmost to keep it open, given our bodies have not been too enfeebled to even resist.

So, why don’t we have departments of Death Studies in all of our educational institutions right now? International forums and colloquiums? Commissions of enquiry? Prizes for coming up with some actual answers to what should always be the main question: why do we (need to) die? Why is Death such a prime overlooked component of our Lives? Why do we basically ignore it, yet are happy enough to watch the F.A Cup final in its incessant shadow? Death is not retreating, it’s not going away. It’s just outside our windows. It’s on the soccer pitch. It lurks in the grandstands and in the pubs outside after the match.

What are we doing here is not asking a question pertaining to why we are alive. Rather it is this query: why do we die and why aren’t we staring this BIG question in the face?

Do not accept another death without at the very least questioning it, fighting it, killing it. By confronting this dragon we may well slay it once and for all.

Life is a given. Death can be otherwise. Don’t let Death kill you.

Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it. W. Somerset Maugham

Personal Note:

Vaughan Rapatahana’s life has been a swill in death. Death had always been a shadow, losing parents and children far too early and unnecessarily. And he can certainly vouch that Albert Camus’ ‘solution’ didn’t work for him.

Now he wouldn’t wish Death on anyone, anywhere. Life is for seizing forever.

Colin Wilson and The Occult

The ‘Occult Trilogy’ is the collective label applied to Colin Wilson’s three major works on the occult: The Occult (1971); Mysteries: an Investigation into the Occult, the Paranormal and the Supernatural (1978) and Beyond the Occult (1988). They amounted to a monumental 1600 pages and have spawned many other lesser works.
Colin Stanley, Wilson’s bibliographer and editor of Around the Outsider: essays presented to Colin Wilson on the occasion of his 80th birthday (O-Books, 2011) and the ‘Colin Wilson Studies’ series (Paupers’ Press, ISSN: 0959-180-X), provides a perceptive analysis of each book, appending full bibliographical details to facilitate further study.
Axis Mundi Books: May 31, 2013; Paper, 97p.
£9.99. ISBN: 978-1846947063

“Colin Wilson’s ‘occult trilogy’ offers not only an encyclopaedic account of the mysterious ‘hidden’ powers of nature and the human mind, as well as a history of our pursuit of them, it also provides a clear guide to how mankind can actualize its inner resources and fulfil its evolutionary destiny. Colin Stanley’s thorough and fascinating overview gives the reader a firm grounding in this enormously important subject, and lays a solid foundation for its future development.” Gary Lachman, author of: The Secret History of Consciousness, Jung the Mystic, Turn Off Your Mind, Madame Blavatsky

“Insightful and engaging, this is an essential guide for any serious student of Colin Wilson’s books.” Steve Taylor, author of The Fall, Back to Sanity.
You can pre-order Colin Stanley’s book here An excerpt from Colin’s recent lecture on this book can be read here

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Review: Philosophical (a)Musings

Philosophical (a)Musings: Colin Wilson, Me + the Meaning of Life, by Vaughan Rapatahana. Entropy Press 2012.

We’re all aware of the glib hack work that has passed for criticism of CW’s work since time immemorial – well, around 1957 -that dreary, repetitive template of personal sniping which masks a lazy, anti intellectual non-interest in Colin’s ‘phenomenonological existentialism’ and it’s applications/implications. Thankfully, there are other voices: careful readers familiar with the gist of Wilson’s oeuvre, and willing to debate. Many of these voices could be heard in the recent Around the Outsider anthology, a festschrift celebrating Colin’s 80th birthday. Vaughan Rapatahana was one such voice.
He’s written about CW before – as Vaughan Robertson, he published part of his PhD thesis as the Paupers’ Press booklet “Wilson as Mystic” (Colin Wilson Studies #11). Now, with this large soft-back of 142 pages, he’s collected various thought provoking pieces. Some were only previously available in Paul Newman’s now sadly defunct Abraxas magazine, one is from Philosophy Now, some have appeared online at Colin Wilson World, and some have appeared on this very site. There’s also some rare morsels of Wilsonia that have never appeared before, making it a must buy for hardcore CW fanatics.
I once asked Colin what he thought of Vaughan’s work. “He’s curious”, he said – “sometimes he thinks I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread, and then he decides I’m not” (or words to that effect; I certainly have the recording somewhere, but I can’t locate it). While it’s true that he can be the most cuttingly critical of all the ‘Wilson defenders’, Rapatahana is doing it out of an obsessive interest in Wilson’s texts, despite an occasionally repeating negative tone. He is obviously familiar with everything Wilson has written – no mean feat – and many secondary sources, some of which I’ve never come across (The Sexual World of Colin Wilson, The Journal of Sex, 1977, for instance). So the criticism in this book is, unlike the usual boring press ‘criticisms’, grounded on a thorough knowledge of the Wilson canon.
Writing about Wilson is (as his bibliographer Colin Stanley noted) a surprisingly difficult art. Wilson’s ideas can be complex, yet are always written in accessibly comprehensible language, so attempts at interlocution can sometimes be clumsily counter productive. Yet Wilson does need help with his ‘message’ – his oeuvre is so vast and scattered, with far too many important titles out of print, that discussions are necessary to give shape to the “existential jigsaw puzzle”. Despite the hugeness of the bibliography and apparently confusing shifts of topic, Wilson’s thesis is surprisingly simple. (I personally only began to understand the whole picture after reading Howard F Dossor’s 1990 study, as at the time I was only familiar with about a dozen CW books).
Rapatahana’s writings collected here make use of Wilson’s own concept of Existential Literary Criticism (ELC). It is, the author says, “the one great criterion with which to judge (written) work and I always use it.” (p.35). ELC is put to use throughout Philosophical (a)Musings, deconstructing both published and unpublished Wilson tomes. For the hardcore, the reviews of the unpublished texts are obviously the most intriguing – we have treatments of Will Shakespeare’s Hand, The Anatomy of Human Greatness and Metamorphosis of the Vampire, none of which have been published yet. There’s also a very tantalising fragment of his ‘lost’ novel, Lulu, which despite it’s brevity, is completely brilliant. Out of Left Field (p. 8), is an enthusiastic review of the vampire novel, and it made me want to see it published so much that I sent the original article (in Abraxas 14) to Starfire – the publishers of occultist Kenneth Grant. They were enthused, but there’s still been no show for Metamorphosis of the Vampire. It “needs and has to be published. It contains so much and I have only scratched the surface.” (p.10).
The Anatomy of Human Greatness is a summary of the Outsider Cycle written in 1964 and is also unpublished. Discovered by Wilsonian Maurice Bassett, Rapatahana’s treatment of it does make it sound as vital as Metamorphosis. Like Vaughan, I too desperately wanted CW to write Derrida Deconstructed, which he threatened to in Abraxas # 8. “I wish he would, whereby he might decimate the truculent triviality of the cult of insignificance as sanctioned by Derrida and his band of merry men and later the fulminating followers of his fashion: Lyotard/Baudrillard/Deleuze et al.” (p.14). Rapatahana wants CW to “restring his bow, clean up his quills and shoot to kill.” (ibid.) While I’d dearly love to read more Wilson-generated hard philosophy – think Anti-Sartre/Below the Iceberg – I’m not so sure that his tunnelling into popular narratives such as Fortean occultism (or grim true crime) was that much of a move away from his phenomenology. Much in the same way that Hitchcock still made great films after leaving his native country, or that Frank Zappa’s fabled ‘conceptual continuity’ remained intact after “selling out” (at around the same time Wilson published The Occult), I feel that his archery skills remained untouched. It was just that the target itself got larger.
Colin Stanley cannily pointed out in his recent lecture on CW’s Occult Trilogy that despite his assertions that he had no real interest in the subject – despite owning a ton of paperbacks on the paranormal! – Wilson’s early work contains quite a few splatters of ectoplasm. The World of Violence, for instance, even has this telling phrase – “some new faculty in me had been awakened”.
Rasputin and the Fall of the Romanovs has a typical digression inside the narrative of the ‘mad monk’. Speaking of Husserl’s insight that simple perception virtually never occurs due to the selective nature of consciousness, Wilson notes that this distorting power “can be much better studied through the psychology of sex or religion, since the mind’s strongest forces are here in question.” For me, the occult books are just as phenomenological as the Outsider Cycle, just less explicit. They are narratives to get you thinking in a particular way. As are the true crime books – all that sordid grime makes you feel glad to be clean. Having said that, an equal disappointment to the (apt!) non-appearance of the Derrida book was the mooted (in Abraxas, I’m sure) but never actually written History of Philosophy which was to be published by Robinson. That could have been a 600 page expansion of the important philosophical history chapter from Beyond the Outsider, and a truly great read. It is interesting that Colin Stanley also noted in his lecture that The Occult was Wilson’s first commissioned book. “Not many people realise, in fact, that this was Wilson’s first commission. Effectively, from 1956 to the late 1960s he wrote ‘as he pleased’.” Hmmm.
I recall being very excited when Gary Lachman ended a CW interview in Fortean Times by mentioning that Colin was working on a book about Shakespeare. I’ve had the pleasure of reading the manuscript, but it’s still not been published. It’s an odd book for Wilson; as Rapatahana says, it’s unusual probably because he barely touches on his usual themes. A relief, almost, to read CW writing about something I am relatively ignorant about, and free of his usual “foot soldiers” – his riffs on Proust/Nietzsche/Steppenwolf etc. Rapatahana tires of Wilson’s constant riffing to the same tunes – and I completely sympathise – but he returns to it so often that it’s almost like he’s doing exactly what he’s criticising Colin for (!)
The piece on what became The Devil’s Party (p.19) is interesting because it mentions the deleted sections, the essay on Foucault – “presumably not messianic enough” – which, along with a brief history of French philosophy was cut but thankfully published in Below the Iceberg. I can’t, however agree that his use of Yeats’ concept of the mask in TDP is unworthy or unfocused, for me, it’s one of the most interesting ideas in the whole book. The “mask of power” is usually the exact opposite of what a messiah actually appears to be: behind Aleister Crowley’s Beastly 666 persona, for instance, was an overweight Midlands schoolboy obsessed with fame. Reading Crowley’s own vast “autohagiography”, The Confessions, tends to support this assertion. It gets interesting thinking about this and his excluded digressions on Derrida, Barthes and Foucault for sure. A shame they were cut out of the book.
But back to Philosophical (a)Musings. There are also reviews of prime ELC texts – The Angry Years, The Books in My Life, and the (as then untitled) autobiography. Plus reviews of Spiderworld vol 4, The Atlantis Blueprint, Superconsciousness, and Serial Killer Investigations. There’s also a review of Atlantis and the Kingdom of the Neanderthals – a hodgepodge of missing bits from The Atlantis Blueprint – called How to Make a Milkshake. Amusingly scathing, yes, though I did actually enjoy the book, believe it or not! To paraphrase Nick Hornby, “I’ll read anything by Colin Wilson”. Probably because even at his most cut n’ paste, even reading the read n’ throw 99p World Famous books, Wilson still reminds me of something very important, a fact not lost on Vaughan Rapatahana throughout this book, even at his most critical.
The book continues with other, non-review sections, Colin Wilson as Hydra from Philosophy Now being one of the best essays. Perhaps more so than the book reviews, Rapatahana can speak of Wilson’s general philosophical strengths rather than the shortcomings of any particular book, with it’s attendant commercial compromises and deadlines. It’s a fine example of what I mentioned earlier about a birds’ eye view over the existential jigsaw puzzle, and is worthy of the price of the book itself. “To me, Colin has endured as a philosopher who must always be considered, if not for his ‘solutions’, at least for his syntheses, and always for his asking the questions we must all face. The fact that he has done so in a generally otiose academic and critical environment in his own homeland only makes his efforts all the more tenacious.” (p.85).
Postmodern Mysticism is an essay which originally appeared in the glossy Abraxas Unbound, aka Abraxas 20. It’s a very useful essay as it discusses the PoMo suggestiveness of Colin’s fiction; “what I would call Wilson’s ‘tangentalism'” (p. 89) which Rapatahana compares to Lodge and Ravichandran. This is important because it pulls Wilson out of the mid fifties time zone and inserts his voice where it should be, in the present. “Foucault and Wilson are brothers, both calling for disintegration of self-essence, even if Wilson abrogates it!” (p. 92). Wilson rejected this – “I am deeply opposed to everything they [Foucault, Derrida, Barthes] stand for, which is why I react with incredulity to your assertion that they and I are saying the same thing.” (see Abraxas Unbound, p. 216 for the full exchange). Yet odd concepts from Foucault and Derrida have since popped up in Wilson texts; Foucault’s epistemes are described as a “useful concept” in the introduction to Oliver Cyriax’s Encyclopaedia of Crime, for instance.
One of my favourite pieces in here is the essay on p. 110 – Jim Morrison and Colin Wilson – Partners in Crime. It’s noted that the teenage Lizard King read Wilson, yet also reveals that Wilson admired Morrison’s music. Interesting, for despite the fact that Wilson has influenced many rock ‘n rollers, punks and industrial musicians – he’s even recorded with some – he very rarely mentions any (give or take, off the top of my head: The Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Shadows, The [sic] H P Lovecraft and The Sex Pistols!) As Rapatahana reminds us, Wilson has influenced all kinds of well, Outsiders, rather than the “entrenched academic or critical squadrons armed to the teeth to withstand his full frontal assaults on their impervious and imperial ivory towers.” (p. 115).
Philosophical (a)Musings rounds off with some philosophical essays, all peppered with Wilsonia. There’s also some of Vaughan’s poetry and some correspondence with CW himself.
Rapatahana is one of the few commentators on Wilson who tries to put his New Existentialism in the modern philosophical jungle, and this is to be totally commended. While I obviously don’t agree with every assertion – just as I don’t with Wilson himself – there are an awful lot of suggestive pieces fitting into the Existential Jigsaw Puzzle. Plus many nods to obscure Wilsonian bits and pieces, some of which I was previously unaware of. Philosophical (a)Musings made me want to read my complete Wilson collection all over again, and find more if I possibly could. A recommendation if there was one.

You can buy Vaughan Rapatahana’s book here

Colin Wilson and The Occult

Colin Stanley will be giving a talk on ‘Colin Wilson and the Occult’ for the Atlantis Bookshop at the Cartoonist Pub, 76 Shoe Lane (off Fleet Street) EC4A 3JB on the evening of Wednesday 12th December. Tickets are £5 and can be had from the Atlantis Bookshop, tel. 02074052120 or e-mail atlantis@theatlantisbookshop.com
Hope to see some of you there.

Welcome

Colin Stanley
Managing Editor
Paupers’ Press
37 Quayside Close
Trent Bridge
Nottingham NG2 3BP
United Kingdom

Tel/Fax: 0115-9863334
http://www.pauperspress.com

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A World of Colin Wilson – review

Colin Wilson’s voice has appeared on disc before – on his own “Essential Colin Wilson” CD (of readings from the same book), on the Julian Cope offshoot The Sons of TC Lethbridge, and on The Orb’s UFOrb amongst others. Anthony Reynolds’ A World of Colin Wilson is a welcome addition to the above.
Beginning with a Zappa-esque blast of static, jazz tootling & speech, Why Life Fails Us is the opening track on this album. It drifts into an Eno ambience of lazy bass strings and synth which compliment the Wilsonian speech riffs drifting in and out – Eliot, Shaw and Maslow – familiar to all his readers. A circular sample of “Why does life fail?” sounds a little like later Throbbing Gristle, who once threw a Wilson sample (before there were samplers!) into the mix of one of their chaotic live gigs. There can’t be very many albums out there which have a mention of Japanese Maslow editions, as this track does! The ambience has a sonic break when Colin shouts “Joy, close that door!” as jazz trumpet – vintage “Outsider” sound – fades it out. The next track is an industrial soundscape of distorted voices. Whose voices, I’m not sure (Anthony Reynolds?) Colin’s seems to be buried in there somewhere. Intentional or not, the ghost of the first wave of Industrial Music rears its head. Apt, as some of the artists in that scene would reference Colin now and again.
‘Why we make it difficult on ourselves’ is self explanatory – Colin discusses why over acoustic guitar and occasional tape distortion. What is interesting about the use of sounds and samples is that they work together to create a receptive mood to engage with Wilson’s ideas, rather than just overlaid on top of each other. Satie piano is laid over voice on the next track.
The Hill is similar to another Wilson recording – Anatomy of a Poet by In The Nursery. Colin reads the Rupert Brooke poem over strings and noise, and it’s brilliant – if too brief (someone once said that Colin had the most comforting voice in the world).
A phenomenological epoche is the driving force of New York Ozone Memory: the observation about New York being as real as the here and now is reprised. The original Faculty X concept, from The Occult. Again, the music works with the philosophy and doesn’t either become mere background or foreground.
“We’re not sitting in an execution chamber”, he says on ‘Life is all there is’. His philosophy in a nutshell.
Distortion crackles over track 8, ‘Cornwall’. A challenge to discern what is being said, but a good one. Sonically, it’s radio waves and tape slippages of the Stockhausen/Cage variety. What sounds like a heartbeat appears near the end.
A bit of a lighter tone on acoustic guitar and voice works well with Colin’s clear voice on ‘The colour and light around me’ as he describes his pre-Outsider ‘tramp’ days. A delight. The loop of laughter sounds like the end of Dark Side of the Moon (did the Floyd get that title from The Occult, one wonders?) A vaguely dubby melodica and a female backing vocals drift in and out as drums start the first rhythm of the album. That laughter sample floats about the song. Makes me smile.
The final track, ‘Keats…Shelley…Eliot…’ reminds me of late seventies indie legends Young Marble Giants. Drum machine clacking away and the cheapest keyboard sound. More Colin in the mix, repeating the phrase “over and over and over again”.
Anthony Reynolds has made a very interesting addition to Wilsonia with this album. It works musically – and it illustrates his philosophy very well with unusual textures and editing. Colin’s ideas of “the reality of other times and places” come through strongly on the disc. Nice retro packaging too.
A World of Colin Wilson is out now on Rocket Girl. Thanks to Vinita at the label.

Philosophy Now CW Meetup

Jason Palmer, creator of the Facebook group Colin Wilson Is A Better Philosopher Than Sartre (previously mentioned on VR’s “Critique 2” piece on this site) invites all interested parties in London on February 27th to discuss all things Wilsonian. More info here.

Philosophy of The Future

Like the previous excerpt, intended for CW’s own website project but never used.
Beyond the Outsider (1965)
In September 1961 I set out on my first lecture tour of the United States. It proved harder work than I expected. I often visited several colleges or universities a week, and probably talked non-stop for five or six hours every day. And at every college I had to start again at the beginning, and summarise the ideas of The Outsider, Religion and the Rebel, The Age of Defeat (which had been called The Stature of Man, the Americans preferring an ‘upbeat’ title) and The Strength to Dream (which had been written but not yet published).

Repeating my ideas over and over again made me familiar with them in a new way, and made me more aware of their implications. For example, I began to see that existentialism was simply a new form of 19th century Romanticism – Romanticism Mark 2, so to speak. Romanticism Mark 1 was the ‘Eternal Longing’, that craving for something beyond mere material existence, which tormented them like a sickness. Most of them concluded that it was unattainable, and sank into despair that shortened their lives – hence those poets of the late 19th century that Yeats called ‘the Tragic Generation’ – Ernest Dowson, Lionel Johnson, James Thompson, Oscar Wilde, Arthur Rimbaud, Paul Verlaine, who seemed born for tragedy.
On the other hand, the existentialist philosophers, who had their roots in Kierkegaard, faced life with grim acceptance. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus says that Sisyphus is doomed to roll a rock uphill and watch it roll down again forever – yet we must consider Sisyphus happy, for he possesses the inner freedom of his own mind – that freedom that Byron had spoken of in The Prisoner of Chillon : “Eternal spirit of the chainless Mind/ Brightest in dungeons, Liberty thou art!”. Whereas the Romantics gave way to despair, existentialism took a more stoical attitude. As Hemingway put it in The Old Man and the Sea: “A man can be destroyed but not defeated”.

But Husserl’s phenomenology had shown me a way out of the cul de sac of existentialism. The intentionality of perception means we are free. And if we are free, we are not helpless and passive. The passivity is a mistake, a fallacy.

Sartre and Camus had failed to recognise this. Sartre’s most famous statement is: “Man is a useless passion”. But how can we be useless if we are free? We can change our thoughts, change our lives, change the world.

More to the point, we can change our inner worlds.

This is why I feel Beyond The Outsider to be one of my most important books.

It begins by considering the fundamental human problem: whether we have to accept that life is meaningless. Eliot clearly thinks so in The Hollow Men; so does Samuel Beckett. Camus thought we should live ‘without appeal’ – that is, accepting that there is no greater meaning, and that this is our human lot. In a story called The Natural History of the Dead Hemingway argues that violent death negates all our human delusions about meaning and says he would like to see the death of any so-called humanist (i.e: someone who does not believe in God but believes that life is nevertheless meaningful) and see what noble exits they make. I refer to this attitude as ‘unheroic nihilism’.

I then point out the inconsistencies of this attitude – for example, in Beckett’s short play Act Without Words, in which all a man’s efforts to reach something above his head are futile, because every time he tries to grab it, it goes up beyond his reach. Beckett is implying that fate is not merely indifferent, but malicious. So does Camus’s play Cross Purposes (Le Malentendu), about parents who rob and kill their son – a sailor home from the sea – without realising who he is. But to say that life is not only meaningless but actively malicious is illogical and self-contradictory. Graham Greene, whose view of the universe is obviously jaundiced, admits that when in a dangerous situation in Africa, he experienced something he had not suspected he possessed, ‘a love of life’. He seems to be unaware that this is tantamount to admitting that his usual grim view of existence is something to do with his perception rather than with the universe.

The real problem, I suggest, lies in the dullness of our senses, which keeps us in a state akin to sleep. The Greek poet Demetrios Capentanakis remarks that at the beginning of the Second World War, he reflected: “Well, it will be horrible, but if it will be so horrible as to frighten and wake up the mind, it might become the salvation of many”. But that proved to be untrue. “Even war cannot frighten us enough”. And he goes on to suggest that Rimbaud subjected himself to a life of insecurity out of his desire to ‘shake the mind awake’. He might have added that saints and ascetics subjected themselves to harsh disciplines for the same reason.

The problem seems to be the feebleness of the human mind. Or, as I was to express it later: “Human beings are grandfather clocks driven by watch springs”. Schopenhauer says that life is a pendulum that swings between misery and boredom. We experience some anxiety or inconvenience, strive to overcome it, feel momentary relief as it vanishes, then forget to feel relieved and relapse into boredom. And if this true, then we had better accept ‘unheroic nihilism’ as the truth about the human condition.

But H.G. Wells had another explanation for the unsatisfactoriness. Men like himself, he says – ‘originative intellectual workers’ – find normal human existence boring because they long for a more meaningful kind of existence. “We are like early amphibians, so to speak, struggling out of the waters that have hitherto covered our kind, into the air, seeking to breathe in a new fashion and to emancipate ourselves from…necessities. At last it becomes a case of air or nothing. But the new land has not definitely emerged from the waters, and we swim distressfully in an element we wish to abandon.”

In other words, we want a new kind of freedom, more than any animal has ever known.

The chapter that follows, The Strange Story of Modern Philosophy, seems to me one of the most important I have ever written. I begin by considering the ‘world rejection’ of Socrates, who tells his followers that since the philosopher spends his life trying to separate his soul from his body, his own death should be regarded as a consummation. And this is consistent with his belief that only spirit is real, and matter is somehow unimportant and unreal. This notion would persist throughout the next two thousand years, harmonising comfortably with the Christian view that this world is unimportant compared to the next.

Then came scientific thought, in the person of Galileo, who introduced the spirit of experiment. He demonstrated that gravity makes all bodies fall at the same speed, and invented the telescope through which he discovered the moons of Jupiter. From then on, human thought began to take a more purposeful direction. In 1642, the year Galileo died, Newton was born, and within forty years, science had advanced further than in the previous two thousand.

In philosophy, a similar leap forward had taken place while Galileo was still alive. Rene Descartes attempted to bring into philosophy the same kind of certainty that Galileo had brought to science. Galileo had explored the heavens with a telescope; Descartes decided to examine the human situation through a kind of magnifying glass.

His new method of achieving certainty was simplicity itself: to doubt everything. After seeing some toy robots driven by water in the park at Versailles, it struck him that human beings are almost entirely mechanical; we need stimuli to make us do something. Of course, men could not be made of clockwork, because they have souls. (Descartes was a good Catholic.) But animals could be, and probably are, machines. How do I know I am not a machine? Because a machine has no self-awareness. On the other hand, I can think, ‘therefore I am’.

Such an assertion obviously leaves room for doubt. If some god could endow a washing machine with self-awareness, it would probably assume that it operates of it’s own free will, and would say ‘I think, therefore I am’. It would clearly be mistaken.

The British philosopher John Locke – who was eighteen when Descartes died – recognised this. He did not actually argue that men are robots, but came very close to it when he said that we cannot know anything that does not come from our experience. There is nothing in the mind that was not first in the senses. When man is born, his mind is like a blank sheet of paper, a ‘tabula rasa’. Everything he then learns arises from things that happen to him. So what we call the mind – all his thoughts, responses, reactions – is a ‘construct’, like a house built of pieces of Lego.

Plato thought that we are born with a certain knowledge already inside us. In the Meno, Socrates makes a slave solve a geometrical problem merely by asking him questions, and then argues that this knowledge must have been already in the slave’s mind, and only needed bringing out. Locke denied this.

Descartes had launched modern western philosophy with a dubious proposition, and now Locke continued it with an even more dubious one (for anybody who kept pigeons could have told Locke that they are born with all kinds of innate knowledge). This seems to be a typical characteristic of western philosophy: if someone makes a stupid howler, his successors try to justify it and carry the thing to even further lengths of absurdity, when common sense would suggest that they get their foundations right by going back to square one.

So it was perhaps inevitable that Bishop Berkeley should go a step further. If we can only know things through the mind, then why should we assume the outside world exists at all? Jam is not really sweet; it only produces a sensation of sweetness on the tongue. The sky is not really blue; it only produces a sensation of blueness on the eyes. Perhaps objects only exist when we are looking at them, and when there is no one there to see them, they vanish. Or at least, they would if God was not there to see them.

This was obviously inviting some clever trouble-maker to suggest that, since there is no evidence that God exists, perhaps everything is an illusion? Which is more or less what the next ‘great philosopher’ did by carrying doubt even further. David Hume set out to reduce everything to materialism. The soul, which Descartes thought he had proved, is an illusion, because when I look inside myself, I do not become aware of ‘the essential me’, but merely of thoughts and sensations. So human beings are also made of Lego.

And when you look at things in this piecemeal way, the they simply dissolve. Even cause and effect are seen to be an illusion, for ‘every effect is a distinct event from it’s cause’, and therefore ‘cannot be discovered in the cause’. Perhaps God is pulling our legs when He makes a kettle boil on a fire; perhaps it is really supposed to freeze.

What Hume did was to sweep the world bare of all certainty, leaving philosophy looking like a landscape after the dropping of an H-bomb.

The philosopher who tried to repair the damage was the Konigsburg professor Immanuel Kant. And what he did was, in effect, to take a step backward to Bishop Berkeley, and make the mind the creator of reality.

He noticed the existence of what Husserl would later call ‘intentionality’ – that the mind makes sense of this chaotic world that surrounds us by imposing order on it. We divide things into categories – for example, everything I can see around me is either a liquid, a solid or a gas. We use clocks to to impose order on the chaos of time, and measuring rods to impose it on space. We call things by words we have invented – that four legged creature is a ‘cat’, and that one a ‘dog’. You could say we invent space and time to make our world orderly enough to live in comfortably. It is as if we had invented a pair of spectacles that impose categories on the world.

Does that mean there is no ‘true reality’ behind all our categories? Yes, there is such an underlying reality, which Kant called the noumena, to distinguish it from the world of mere ‘phenomena’ that surrounds us. But since we can never remove the spectacles, we can never know this reality. The dramatist Kleist was so upset by Kant’s bewildering variation on Bishop Berkeley that he committed suicide.

At which point one of Kant’s followers, a now almost forgotten thinker called Johann Gottlieb Fitche, called a halt to the madness – at least, he would have done if anyone had taken any notice of him. What Fitche said was: why bother about this ‘noumena’? If it is unknowable, we may has well forget it. In that case, man is left in a world created by his senses – just as Berkeley said. But if ‘I’ really created the universe, why do I not know that I did? There must be two ‘me’s’, this everyday self who has no idea of who it is or what it is doing here, and another ‘me’ who is actually a kind of god who has created this world.

Descartes sat in his armchair, or more likely lay in bed (he was notoriously lazy) and asked: What can I know for certain? He answered: Two things are certain – my own existence and the world out there. We call them the subjective and the objective worlds. Fitche said: No, there are three worlds – that world out there, and two ‘me’s’, the ordinary me and the me who is behind the scenes creating the world out there.

The next question is: how could the ordinary ‘me’ begin to explore the extraordinary world created by the ‘other me’? And this, of course, is the true task of phenomenology, to which we shall come in a moment.

Fitche made one more comment that is of immense importance: that the trouble with philosophy was that it’s attitude to the world is passive. But philosophy, he said (in Addresses to the German Nation) should regard itself as active, or at least as a prelude to action. Expressed in this way, this sounds unexciting – as if it is merely an earlier statement of Karl Marx’s statement that the business of philosophy is not to understand the world but to change it. In fact, it was really a blinding flash of insight: that Kantian philosophy turned philosophers into armchair theorists, so that their whole attitude to philosophy was passive, when it should be active.

Consider these lines from Yeats’ last poem ‘Under Ben Bulben‘ :

Know that when all words are said

And a man is fighting mad,

Something drops from his eyes long blind.

He completes his partial mind,

For an instant stands at ease,

Laughs aloud, his heart at peace…

The crucial line here, of course, is: ‘He completes his partial mind’. For it implies that under normal circumstances, only a part of the mind is awake and active.

In Poetry and Mysticism, I comment: “These are the visionary, mystical moments, when a man ‘completes his partial mind’. His everyday conscious self is only a small part of the mind, like the final crescent of the moon. In moments of crisis, the full moon suddenly appears. Petty miseries and oppressions vanish…” (p. 156)

This is what Fitche meant when he said that man only knows himself in action.

But no one noticed Fitche’s revolution, so no one tried to carry on his work – at least, until the end of the century, when Edmund Husserl came along. Instead, philosophy went back to Hume’s bleak landscape, and set about completing the work of devastation.

Descartes thought men are machines with souls, and his successor La Mettrie developed this idea in Man the Machine (1748), which argues that the soul is a material part of the brain, and that all living beings are self-winding clockwork toys. He was followed by Entienne de Condillac, who followed Locke and Hume in arguing that our mental life is merely physical sensations. Then came a group known as the Idealogues, of whom the leaders were Jean-Pierre Cabanis and Destutt de Tracy, who believed that the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile.

Until finally one of these idealogues, Maine de Biran, was suddenly struck by the thought that this is nonsense. When I exert my will to solve some problem, it feels quite different from, say, writing a note to the butcher or making a cup of tea. In that moment I know I am not a machine.

In fact, there is a simple and obvious difference. It is true that I carry out dozens of activities that I do every day, in a ‘machine-like’ state, (even typing out these words is to a large extent mechanical). But the thought that is behind the words must be non-mechanical, otherwise it will soon show in my writing. So we might say that the difference between a good writer and a bad writer is his degree of mechanicalness, and the difference between a Wordsworth sonnet on Westmister Bridge (‘Earth hath not anything to show more fair…’) and vast tracts of his later poetry makes us see the difference: one is written by a kind of robot, and the other by what you might call ‘the real Wordsworth’, the living man. I shall speak of this again later.

Unfortunately, French philosophers at the end of the 18th century were so intoxicated at being able to give a two finger salute to the Catholic Church – which had persecuted free thought for centuries – that they had no intention of conceding that man had an immortal soul. So no one paid the slightest attention to Maine de Biran’s discovery that we have free will. And the next major French philosopher, August Comte, directed all his polemical powers at denouncing superstition (by which he meant religion), and declaring that man would never be free until he learned to live by logic and reason. He also regarded metaphysics – i.e. all attempts to deal with larger questions about man and the universe – as another form of superstition. Unfortunately, he was a poor advertisement for his religion of reason, for a disastrous marriage caused a nervous breakdown that drove him into an insane asylum, after which an unhappy love affair made him attempt suicide. In spite of which, his Course of Positive Philosophy had an enormous influence, and he even founded a ‘Church of Humanity’, which went on to become highly successful after his death.

In Germany, metaphysical philosophy showed that it still had plenty of life in it in the thought of G. F. Hegel, who also began as a sceptic and rationalist, then had some kind of revelation in which he saw the ‘Idea’ as the ultimate reality from which all other things derive, including Nature and Spirit. Perhaps he was remembering St John’s “In the beginning was the Word”. This led him to a vision of history that has something in common with Toynbee’s, in which all the miseries and torments of history nevertheless drive man ‘upward and on’, towards the expression of pure spirit. There was something very vital and positive about Hegel’s philosophy that aroused immense enthusiasm in his contemporaries, and led to a revival of interest in metaphysics. At a time when the world was almost ready to surrender to French materialism, it was Hegel who brought a refreshing new impulse of Idealism. If it had not been for an appalling tendency to write in incomprehensible abstractions, he would probably qualify as the most important philosopher since Plato.

The man who now seems to us to be one of the most original thinkers of the mid – century was totally unknown in his own time. Soren Kierkegaard, a brilliant but intensely neurotic Dane, might have been expected to regard Hegel as a fellow-spirit, since neither had the slightest inclination to what the French called positivism. But studying Hegel at Copenhagen University put him off completely, since he felt this was all too abstract, and therefore had little to say to him as an individual. As a result, he developed an intense dislike of this philosopher who claimed to have answered every major question in the universe. It was Kierkergaard who first used the word existential (to mean the opposite of ‘abstract’) to explain his dislike of Hegel. When books like The Concept of Angst were rediscovered in the 1920’s, they immediately found a large audience, because by that time everybody was suffering from it. Probably his best known statement is: ‘Truth is subjectivity’.

Kierkergaard spent most of his short life (he died at the age of 42) in a state of depression, and collapsed on the day he went to withdraw the last of his money from the bank. In this sense he was typical of the romantics who, ever since Rousseau, had been complaining that they found life too difficult and unrewarding to be worth the effort. And this is why Fitche’s insight that there is a part of the mind that creates the world ‘behind our backs’ is so important. It suggested that if poets and philosophers knew enough about the hidden powers of that ‘other self’, they might find life less intolerable.

It was another ‘existentialist’ thinker, Friedrich Nietzsche, who glimpsed this truth and made it the basis of his philosophy. The son of a pastor, he was sent to a military academy, then to university. It was when he was a student that the first of his two great revelatory insights occurred. It is related in a letter of 1865 to his friend Von Gersdorff: “Yesterday an oppressive storm hung over the sky, and I hurried to a neighbouring hill called Leutch… At the top I found a hut, where a man killing two kids while his son watched him. The storm broke with a tremendous crash, discharging thunder and hail, and I had an indescribable sense of well-being and zest….Lightning and tempest are different worlds, free powers, without morality. Pure Will, without the confusions of intellect – how happy, how free.”

The second episode happened some years later, during the Franco-Prussian War, when Nietzsche was serving as an orderly in the ambulance corps. He told it to his sister in later life, when she asked him once about the origin of his idea of the Will to Power.

For weeks Nietzsche had attended the sick and wounded on the battlefields until the sight of blood and gangrened limbs had swallowed up his horror into a numbness of fatigue. One evening, after a hard day’s work with the wounded, he was entering a small town near Strasbourg, on foot and alone. He heard the sound of approaching hoof beats and stood back under the wall to allow the regiment to pass. First the cavalry rode by at top speed, and then behind them marched the foot soldiers. It was Nietzsche’s old regiment. As he stood and watched them passing, these men going into battle, perhaps to death, the conviction came again that “the strongest and highest will to life does not lie in the puny struggle to exist, but in the Will to war, the Will to Power…”

By that time Nietzsche had already been a professor of classics at the University of Bonn for two years. Two years after this wartime experience, his first book, The Birth of Tragedy, interprets the Greek love of tragedy as an overflowing of sheer vitality, “the blissful ecstasy that rises from the innermost depths of man, ay, of nature, at the collapse of the principium individuationis…”, this very ‘principle of individuality’ that Kierkergaard had made the basis of his rejection of Hegel. And although forced to retire from academic life by an illness that brought suffering for the remainder of his life, Nietzsche continued to affirm this principle of ‘blissful ecstasy’. And when he was conceiving his most remarkable work, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, he described his sensation of being ‘six thousand feet above men and time’. He would write later: “I have made my philosophy out of my will to health”.

This gives Nietzsche a very good claim to be the first thinker to have solved that basic problem of ‘Eternal Yes versus Eternal No’, and therefore to have solved one of the greatest philosophical problems. But his solution, like his reputation, was undermined by the fact that he died insane, probably as the result of venereal disease picked up from a prostitute.

I can explain his importance by referring to an essay I wrote at this time (1964), and included in Eagle and Earwig. It was about the half-forgotten novelist L. H. Myers, the author of a vast four-part novel called The Near and the Far, which is fairly certainly a great, or near great, novel. He committed suicide by taking an overdose in 1944, when he was 65.

The novel begins with one of the greatest symbols in all literature. Twelve year old Prince Jali, whose father has been summoned to a celebration by Akbar the Great, stands upon the battlements of a castle and over the desert, over which he has been travelling for six days. And as he is moved by a magnificent sunset, he reflects that there are two deserts: on of which is glory to the eye, and the other of which is a weariness to the foot. And the former remains unattainable, for even if he ran out of the palace and towards the sunset, he would only get his shoes full of sand. If only one could somehow grasp the ‘promise of the horizon’, and somehow cross the desert in one bound. If only one could somehow bring together the near and the far…

This, of course, is the ‘eternal longing’ that fascinated and tormented the romantics. Yeats talked of the waterfall ‘upon Ben Bulben’s side/ That all my childhood counted dear…’ then says:

“I would have touched it like a child

But knew my finger would have touched

Cold stone and water…”

And concludes:

“Nothing that we love overmuch

Is ponderable to touch.”

But Myer’s ‘near and the far’ is arguably a better symbol.

But even as I was writing this description of ‘the near and the far’, I could see the solution. Myers was a true romantic; his friend L. P. Hartley said that the thought of one of his characters walking down Piccadilly made made him feel ill; he needed to set all his novels in strange and romantic locations. Myers was also rich, and an incorrigible philander; he never had to face the problems of life or ‘pull his cart out of the mud’, which meant that in spite of his intelligence he failed to see that his problem was weakness, lack of self-discipline. Nietzsche’s Zarathustra was right. The real answer lay in strength, in ‘great health’.

That is to say, the gap between the near and the far is not inherent in the nature of reality. ‘If one were strong enough, healthy enough, it might not be necessary to trudge so painfully through the present.’ In moments of happiness and intensity, the near and the seem to come together.

Later in the 20th century, of course, it became apparent that what was wrong with Nietzsche was that his recognition of the need for strength sprang out of awareness of his own physical weakness, and that in the joy of the insight, he was moved to a glorification of ruthlessness. So the word ‘Nietzschean’ took on unfortunate overtones of cruelty that were far from his intention.

But in its primary sense, meaning an overflowing of energy and optimism, this is the solution to that problem of ‘the near and the far’. I recognised this at the age of 19 when – as I have described in my autobiography – I had spent most of the afternoon making love to a girlfriend on a windy hillside in Derbyshire – we were on our way to the Lake District – and as we ran downhill wearing cycling capes that acted as windbrakes, experienced an enormous and total sense of exaltation, which I recognised as the answer to the self-divisions and miseries of romanticism.

This, then is why I consider the contribution of Nietzsche as so crucial to that fundamental problem of romanticism.

As to that other problem, that philosophical hare set running by Descartes, I believe the solution lies in Fitche’s insight of the ‘two selves’. Elsewhere in Beyond the Outsider, I cite Tolstoy’s story ‘Memoirs of a Madman‘, in which a landowner, on his way to a distant province to buy more land, suddenly awakens one night with the recognition that this is absurd. He wants to buy more land when the real problem is that we all die. And in that moment he sees that all he has been taking for granted – his home, his family his background – have been deceiving him into thinking he knows who is. And he suddenly realises he doesn’t. And he is overwhelmed by the question: ‘Who am I?’ And the result is a religious conversion that leads his friends to assume he has gone mad. But he would say, of course, that it is the world that is mad.

When we grasp Tolstoy’s question, we can see what is wrong with Descartes. His unstated premise is as follows; ‘Here am I, Rene Descartes, sitting in my armchair and asked what we can know for certain…’ But he is failing to question his own identity, and this error will lead on to the errors of Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Kant, Hegel and the rest. At least Kierkergaard and Nietzsche were aware of that basic question ‘Who am I?’, which is the starting point of existentialism.

And in Chapter 3 of Beyond the Outsider I go on to propound the solution to that accumulation of errors. It was clearly seen by two great thinkers of the 20th century, Husserl and Whitehead.

Whitehead began by returning to Hume, and pinning down the underlying fallacy. Hume argued that we have no true ‘inner self’. He claimed that when he looked inside himself for the real ‘David Hume’, he only came across ideas and impressions, but nothing like a ‘self’. And he concluded – as the French Idealogues would later – that all that can be found inside of us is a ‘stream of consciousness’, a lot of scurrying thoughts whose only ‘identity’ is that they come after one another. This is the realisation that comes, he says, when you look at your inner self through a magnifying glass.

In a little book called Symbolism, Its Meaning and Effect, Whitehead points out that this method of looking at something through a magnifying glass is a good way of missing its meaning. If, for example, you looked at a great painting through a magnifying glass, you would only see the texture of the paint. If you look at a newspaper photograph close-up, you would only see disconnected dots. In both cases you are looking at individual trees and failing to see they constitute a wood. In order to see the wood, we need to take a bird’s eye view, to stand back.

So we have two kinds of perception: bird’s eye and worm’s eye, close up and far-off. Both only give half of the truth.

Whitehead calls these two modes ‘presentational immediacy’ and ‘causal efficacy’. The first is easy to understand – what is in front of your nose, the second is more difficult. The example Whitehead gives is in the words ‘United States’. You do not grasp these piecemeal: ‘Unites – that means held together. States – yes, that means states like Florida and California. Oh yes, that means America…’ You see the two words as one, United States, and register that as ‘America’. Cause and effect blend into one.

Now Hume criticised causality by saying that every effect is quite distinct from its cause, and so is not ‘necessarily’ linked to it. Whitehead replies: When you grasp a ‘meaning’ they are not merely ‘linked’ – they are one.

We might say, then that we have two ‘modes of perception’, which could be called ‘immediacy perception’ and ‘meaning perception’. When you are very tired and depressed, your meaning-perception becomes blurred (Sartre calls it nausea; the world dissolves into bits and pieces). But this is an illusion, caused by tiredness. On the other hand, when you are drunk and feeling jolly, the world seems to be all meaning. Then it is your immediacy perception that becomes blurred; you cannot even get your key into the keyhole.

On the other hand, there are times – perhaps when you are feeling happy and excited on a spring morning – when the two modes of perception seem to blend together perfectly. You have a wonderful sense of meaning, yet your ‘immediacy perception’ is fully operational.

What happens then could be compared to the film The Dam Busters, in which the British planes had to drop bombs shaped like billiard balls that bounced along the Moener Lake and hit the dam at water level. The problem for the pilot was to know when he was at exactly the right height to drop them. The solution was to place two spotlights on the plane, one in the nose, one in the tail, whose two beams converged at exactly the right height. So when there was just one spot on the surface of the lake, he released the bombs.

According to Whitehead, our most brilliant moments of insight happen when the two beams – immediacy perception and meaning perception – converge.

This, then, is Whitehead’s ‘refutation of Hume’, and it is a breakthrough in western philosophy because it provides new foundations. The question ‘Do we have free will or are we robots?’ becomes absurd. Instead, philosophy can get back to its proper business – understanding the universe.

And what of the of the other question: of the ‘me’ behind the scenes, whose existence was recognised by Fitche?

This was the problem to which Edmund Husserl devoted his life.

When he was at university, in the 1880’s, philosophy was still struggling to throw off the toils of Bishop Berkeley, and the notion that ‘meaning’ is something created by the mind. John Stuart Mill, for example, argued that the feeling of logical certainty is no more than that – a feeling – and that all logic can therefore be reduced to psychology. This notion is called ‘psychologism’, and in its broadest sense it holds that philosophy, logic – even mathematics – can be explained in terms of psychology. This outraged Husserl, for it implied that all truth is ‘relative’, and Husserl could see that philosophy is never going to escape from muddle and confusion while it accepted such vagaries. So his starting point was the acceptance that logic deals with objective truth, not with relative ideas.

His first major work, Logical Investigations, was a sustained attack on psychologism, and an attempt to show that philosophy should be nothing less than a science.

This, of course, is what Decartes wanted to do when he asked the question: ‘Of what can we be certain?’ Husserl gave Descartes full credit for this, and even entitled one of his important series of lectures Cartesian Meditations. But, as we have seen, Descartes’ problem was that he began with the wrong question: ‘What can I know?’ He was failing to ask who was this ‘I’ who wanted to know.

Let me try putting this another way. In her book about ‘female outsiders’ Alone, Alone, Rosemary Dinnage discusses Bertrand Russell’s affair with Ottoline Morrell, and says: “it is important to understand…that it was his underlying need to know whether anything could be established as true that shaped his whole mind… He himself felt that his search had made him a ‘logic machine’, a ‘spectator and not and actor’, with a ‘mind like a search light, very bright in one direction but dark everywhere else’.

What Russell had recognised was what Fitche had said a century earlier: that real philosophy demands an active attitude, rather than the passive one of the philosopher sitting in his armchair. To ‘know’ something merely with the mind is hardly to know it all. Our whole being is somehow involved in true knowing. And when this happens, knowledge has a ‘weight’ that is not found in merely intellectual knowing.

And this is the essence of Husserl’s revolution: that consciousness is intentional, that it is active, not passive. It is like a hand reaching out and grabbing things, not just a search light. And Russell’s own career is a sad example of what happens when a thinker stayed in the ‘Cartesian’ attitude to philosophy. Russell spent his whole life asking: ‘What can we know for certain?’ And the result is oddly disappointing, for he never found a satisfactory answer.

But if, like Rosemary Dinnage, we remove our attention from Russell the thinker to Russell the person, we become aware of the consequences of his ‘passive’ attitude to philosophy – that is, he totally failed to bring his interior philosopher and human being into line. As his second wife Dora put it to Rosemary Dinnage: “Bertie could behave rottenly”. Until he was a very elderly gentleman he continued to pursue women, and to behave like an adolescent. As a person, he remained deeply unsatisfying to all the women he got involved with, and was dumped innumerable times. (I imagine his lifelong desire to screw any attractive female, from 15 to 50, was due to a gloomy conviction in adolescence that a person so ugly and preoccupied with ideas would remain love-starved, and by the time he learned different, the neurosis was too deep to be unrooted.)

But how could a person like Russell have benefited from Husserl’s phenomenology? In fact, we may as well open the question out and ask: How could anyone?

Let me start by quoting the French phenomenologist Paul Ricouer. He is talking about the ‘reduction’ or epoche, that method of ‘standing back’ and viewing things from a distance – rather like standing back from a large picture in an art gallery.

“By means of this reduction consciousness rids itself of a naivete which it has beforehand, and which Husserl calls the natural attitude. This attitude consists in spontaneously believing that the world which is there is simply given. In correcting itself about this naivete, consciousness discovers that it is in itself giving, sense-giving. The reduction does not exclude the presence of the world; it takes nothing back. It does not even suspend the primacy of intuition in every cognition. After the reduction, consciousness continues seeing, but without being absorbed in this seeing, without being lost in it. Rather the very seeing itself is discovered as a doing (operation), as a producing (oevre) – once Husserl even says ‘as a creating’. Husserl would be understood – and the one who thus understands him would would be a phenomenologist – if the intentionality which culminates in seeing were recognised to be a creative vision’.

But how?, the reader wants to ask. What is the trick of transforming ordinary perception into creative vision?

The simplest answer is: poets do it all the time, so do great painters like Van Gogh. Read Shelley’s Ode to the West Wind, and you can feel the ‘phenomenological vision’. Or look at a great painting by Van Gogh or Vlaminck or Soutine. When I was working in a tax office in Rugby, in my teens, I remember my boss saying with disgust that he thought that Van Gogh simply distorted everything he painted. He was missing the point: that Van Gogh was saying: ‘This is how I see things when I put on my creative spectacles’. Rupert Brooke said that on a spring morning he sometimes walked down a country road feeling almost sick with excitement.

Brooke realised that he could bring on this feeling by looking at things in a certain way. And what was really happening when he did this was that he had somehow become aware that he could see more, become aware of more, by looking at things as if they possessed hidden depths of meaning. For it is true. He was becoming conscious of the intentional element in perception, that his ‘seeing’ was in itself a creative act.

We can suddenly begin to see what Ricoeur meant.

Let me try putting it another way.

A normal young male feels spontaneous sexual excitement if he sees a girl taking off her clothes. He feels this is ‘natural’, like feeling hungry when you smell cooking. But supposing he is looking through an art book with reproductions of paintings, and he sees a picture of a model taking off her clothes. She is attractive, and he stares at the painting, and then – let us suppose – deliberately induces sexual excitement. How does he do this? In that question lies the essence of phenomenology. You could say that he looks at the picture, and deliberately puts himself in the state of mind of a man about to climb into bed with her. He ceases to see the picture from ‘the natural standpoint’ (this is just a picture) and deliberately endows it with a dimension of reality. And it can be seen that he is again ‘putting on his creative spectacles’. In fact, the act of masturbation is a textbook illustration of intentionality in action.

The mind can deliberately change the the way it sees things. Brooke tells how he can wander about a village wild with exhilaration. “And it’s not only beauty and beautiful things. In a flicker of sunlight on a blank wall, or a reach of muddy pavement, or smoke from an engine at night, there’s a sudden significance and importance and inspiration that makes the breath stop with a gulp of certainty and happiness. It’s not that the wall or the smoke seem important for anything or suddenly reveal any general statement, or are suddenly seen to be good or beautiful in themselves – only that for you they’re perfect and unique. It’s like being in love with a person… I suppose my occupation is being in love with the universe”.

We can grasp what Ricoeur meant by ‘the very seeing is discovered as a doing’. Brooke is so excited because he realises he can make himself see things in a certain way, and respond to them – just as an adolescent is excited when he discovers that his body can produce a heady brew called sexual excitement. And this is the very essence of phenomenology: you might say that phenomenology is a prosaic way of developing the mystical faculty.

These examples show that there is a creative way of seeing and feeling and that, to some extent, we can do it at will – or can easily learn the trick. What it amounts to, of course, is inducing ‘the peak experience’, Chesterton’s ‘absurd good news’.

Again, I might cite Maslow’s comment that when his students began to talk about their peak experiences, they began having peak experiences all the time. They had simply learned the trick of ‘putting on their creative spectacles’.

There is another vitally important concept in Husserl: the lebenswelt, or ‘life-world’, which Spiegelberg, in his classic work on the phenomenological movement, defined as ‘the world as experienced by a living subject in his particular perspective’ (p.161). An illustration will make this clearer. Anyone can see that the world of Jane Austin’s novels is so different from the world of Aldous Huxley that it is hard to believe they lived on the same planet; their two life-worlds are quite different. Of course, the only way of experiencing someone else’s life-world would be to be behind their eyes, but novels give a pretty clear idea of what I am talking about.

Speaking of the life-world, Spiegelberg says: “The Lebenswelt, so Husserl thought, would yield a particularly revealing clue (Leitfaden) for the study of intentionality in action. Actually the some ninety pages devoted to this subject do not contain more than first indications as to the direction of this next step. Apparently even from here the approach to the ‘mothers’, the keepers of the key to the ultimate sources of being, as Husserl called them repeatedly in allusion to the well-known episode in Goethe’s Faust (Part 2) remained anything but easy. But whatever the Lebenswelt might contribute to the confirmation of Husserl’s transcendental phenomenology and to the unveiling of the hidden achievements of the transcendental ego, there can be no doubt that this was one of the most fertile ideas in the history of phenomenology after Husserl.” (The Phenomenological Movement, p.160).

When I first read this passage more than forty years ago, it suddenly dawned on me that phenomenology is more than a plodding scientific method; that it is method for the creation of ‘visionary consciousness’, of seeing things as Blake and Boehme saw them.

Let me offer a personal instance of the way in which I made use of this insight for the practical purpose of transforming my perception.

I had gone to Cardiff with my wife Joy to take part in a weekend of lectures. It all took place in a modern hotel that looked like a red-brick polytechnic, by the side of a motorway. It was not an inspiring place. And after breakfast on Saturday morning we glanced at the schedule, decided there was nothing we wanted to hear, and set out to walk into the centre of Cardiff and do some shopping. It was a dull, cold day, and walking along by a concrete road with heavy traffic roaring past was not conductive to the ‘holiday feeling’. But I reflected that perception is intentional, and that I was stupidly allowing myself to collapse into the ‘natural standpoint’, and that this was a boring waste of time. So I proceeded to decline to allow my inner-pressure to sink; on the contrary, I began to concentrate my mind. It had the desired effect, and by the time we had walked under a motorway bridge and found ourselves a few hundred yards from the shops, I had begun to ‘see’ the world far more positively.

We wanted to buy something from the chemist; but as we were walking through an enormous Boots, Joy told me that she felt she had ‘flu coming on. At the start of a weekend that was intended to give her a break from housekeeping, this was about the most unwelcome news I could have heard. If she had told me ten minutes earlier it would have depressed me, but as it was, I concentrated my energies again, found her a seat, and went off to buy ‘flu medicine and cold cure. And because there seemed no point in returning to the hotel, since she was not feeling too low, we decided to go to the Municipal Art Gallery, where there was an exhibition of Gwen John. We did this, enjoyed the exhibition and the lunch that followed, then took a taxi back to the hotel, where Joy retired to bed, and I went off to a lecture. Joy’s ‘flu lasted the weekend, but prompt action had prevented it from getting worse, and by the time we travelled back to Cornwall the next day she was feeling a little better.

As to me, I noticed that from the moment I made this act of determined concentration, everything suddenly looked better, and things in general seemed to improve. If I had let myself stay in the negative mood, I am certain things would simply have got worse. Refusing to accept the ‘natural standpoint’ made all the difference.

All this might help to explain why I feel that Beyond the Outsider, which is basically an attack on what has happened to philosophy since Decartes, is one of my most important books. (The other is Beyond the Occult.)
© Colin Wilson