Edward P. Butler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endymions_bower) wrote2007-04-18 11:38 pm
endymions_bower) wrote2007-04-18 11:38 pm
(no subject)
I haven't been too talkative lately in this space, at least partly because I've been trying to get my work back on track. In future I want to try to use this space to discuss ideas more and process less, but this entry is more of the usual thing from me, so I'll put it behind a cut.
Been revising "The Gods and Being in Proclus." The rejections for that and the essay on the intelligible Gods threw me somewhat, I guess, but it has also simply been very time consuming to do what is demanded for these articles, namely incorporating more of the secondary literature on Proclus.
In my dissertation, I relegated the secondary literature to an appendix, which was somewhat defensible on the basis that very little of the literature had directly concerned itself with the henads (the Gods). That was kind of the whole reason for the dissertation: there was no full-length study of the doctrine of the henads. Nevertheless, the approach I took toward the literature was unusual for a dissertation, which is supposed to have both originality and a comprehensive review of the literature.
I guess my attitude was that if one didn't have anything good to say, say nothing (or very little) at all, and I didn't find much good to say about the existing literature on the aspects of Proclus' work that were important to me. I still get annoyed when I read something by an eminent scholar and find carelessness and mischaracterizations of basic elements of Proclus, often in support of agendas that are all too apparent, and that annoyance creates a drag on my creativity. I'm not the sort of person whose best work is elicited by aggression. As such, my policy had been to try to express my approval of what I found that was good in the literature and ignore the negative if it wasn't coming at me head on: live and let live, in effect. I felt in sympathy with something Gadamer says in the preface to The Idea of the Good in Platonic-Aristotelian Philosophy:
It will be noticed that I have referred to recent scholarship only sparingly. For one thing, I do not feel qualified to take a comprehensive stand on it. For another, the presuppositions of my own interpretation are all too different from those of other research. I ask that the reader take what follows as an attempt to read the classic Greek thinkers the other way round as it were—that is, not from the perspective of the assumed superiority of modernity, which believes itself beyond the ancient philosophers because it possesses an infinitely refined logic, but instead with the conviction that philosophy is a human experience that remains the same and that characterizes the human being as such, and that there is no progress in it, but only participation.
But I have learned that if one does not discuss the secondary literature, people will assume you are ignorant of it, and they often cannot, or will not, recognize a novel thesis unless one convinces them of genuine flaws—not just gaps—in the existing treatments of the subject. More generously, I can see that it is easier for people to understand what is novel if it distinguishes itself more critically from what else is out there. And the best thing about incorporating the literature more, I think, is that it forces me to contextualize my work in relation to issues current in the philosophical mainstream. There's a tunnel vision that can set in when one is working continuously in a specialized field, but the more that one at least tries to be in dialogue with others, even if they are in the same specialization, the less likely that tunnel vision will set in. The downside of this is of course that if a profound change in perspective is needed, it's going to take longer to get there by warping the existing perspective than by starting fresh. The conventions of academic writing in this sense are such as to discourage real innovation, though no one did this on purpose. They're just trying to enforce professionalism, but when that standard is applied thoughtlessly, anything that says something you didn't expect looks unprofessional.
So I'm hoping that the new version of "The Gods and Being in Proclus," longer, more autonomous, and, above all, with copious discussion of modern authors, is far superior to the version which was rejected so curtly by Classical Bulletin. I also finished the review of Dmitri Nikulin's new book for the GFPJ—12 pages! The only other time I've written a review of that length was for the Cambridge Companion to the Stoics, which was after all a collection. We are also entering the season in which the CFPs come out fast and furious for conferences in the fall and spring semesters; there's maybe three I'd like to try for, so once I've got the Proclus essay polished off I'll try to get some of those off the ground.
With respect to pop culture, my major investment right now is in the latest Korean historical drama to hit these shore's, last year's smash hit Jumong, about a semi-mythical early Korean king of the first century BCE. The show stars Song Il-Gook, who was the second lead or romantic villain, if you will, in Emperor of the Sea. The show completely demythologizes Jumong, although he retains a certain mythic aura. I looked up his myth, however, and it makes for interesting reading. Here are a couple of sample pages:
http://www.pantheon.org/articles/c/chumong.html
http://www.clickasia.co.kr/about/m2.htm
And here's a poster. From left to right there's Jumong; his love Sosuhno; the good but somewhat ineffectual King Kumwa; Jumong's mother Yuhwa, a royal concubine; and Taeso, the evil eldest son of Kumwa (Taeso's mother is played by Kyun Mi Ri, who was also the villain in Jewel in the Palace.):
My other two weekly programs are The Dresden Files, which has really grown on me, and Gankutsuou: Count of Monte Cristo. These will be joined by Heroes, of course, when it comes back. Here's an image from Gankutsuou, which has the most unique look of any anime I have ever seen, just a riot of textures:
I'm also back on the comic books again. I'm giving Tad Williams' Aquaman and Jodi Picoult's Wonder Woman a chance, because it's interesting to see big shot novelists try their hand at these well-known (if not often well-done) franchises. But the excitement for me lately is the new 'Season 8' Buffy comics from Dark Horse, written by Joss Whedon himself. It really does feel like having the show back, and with an unlimited budget, albeit doled out in such miserly portions, the equivalent of what, a half-hour a month? It's such a shame that Whedon's Wonder Woman feature film deal fell through. The lady gets no respect! Speaking of ladies who demand respect, the other comic I'm really enjoying is Red Sonja. The only manga I'm following are Dokebi Bride and Moon Boy. I picked up the first issue of Mamotte Lollipop but haven't decided whether I'll keep up with it.
Been reading more pop fiction lately too. The major discovery in this regard is that I actually kind of like Laurell K. Hamilton. And I'm not talking about the early stuff—of which I haven't read any yet—but the recent stuff her old fans love to hate. I guess I just like anything where the author has waded so deep into the fictional world she's created that she's lost sight of the shore. I also read P. C. Cast's Goddess of Spring, which was a sweet take on Persephone and Hades, smotheringly cute at times, but suggestive for those who would read it theologically (of course I could read a cheese sandwich theologically at this point). I read Isabel Allende's Zorro, too, highly recommended if one has any affinity for this hero at all, because it's the definitive treatment.
Been revising "The Gods and Being in Proclus." The rejections for that and the essay on the intelligible Gods threw me somewhat, I guess, but it has also simply been very time consuming to do what is demanded for these articles, namely incorporating more of the secondary literature on Proclus.
In my dissertation, I relegated the secondary literature to an appendix, which was somewhat defensible on the basis that very little of the literature had directly concerned itself with the henads (the Gods). That was kind of the whole reason for the dissertation: there was no full-length study of the doctrine of the henads. Nevertheless, the approach I took toward the literature was unusual for a dissertation, which is supposed to have both originality and a comprehensive review of the literature.
I guess my attitude was that if one didn't have anything good to say, say nothing (or very little) at all, and I didn't find much good to say about the existing literature on the aspects of Proclus' work that were important to me. I still get annoyed when I read something by an eminent scholar and find carelessness and mischaracterizations of basic elements of Proclus, often in support of agendas that are all too apparent, and that annoyance creates a drag on my creativity. I'm not the sort of person whose best work is elicited by aggression. As such, my policy had been to try to express my approval of what I found that was good in the literature and ignore the negative if it wasn't coming at me head on: live and let live, in effect. I felt in sympathy with something Gadamer says in the preface to The Idea of the Good in Platonic-Aristotelian Philosophy:
It will be noticed that I have referred to recent scholarship only sparingly. For one thing, I do not feel qualified to take a comprehensive stand on it. For another, the presuppositions of my own interpretation are all too different from those of other research. I ask that the reader take what follows as an attempt to read the classic Greek thinkers the other way round as it were—that is, not from the perspective of the assumed superiority of modernity, which believes itself beyond the ancient philosophers because it possesses an infinitely refined logic, but instead with the conviction that philosophy is a human experience that remains the same and that characterizes the human being as such, and that there is no progress in it, but only participation.
But I have learned that if one does not discuss the secondary literature, people will assume you are ignorant of it, and they often cannot, or will not, recognize a novel thesis unless one convinces them of genuine flaws—not just gaps—in the existing treatments of the subject. More generously, I can see that it is easier for people to understand what is novel if it distinguishes itself more critically from what else is out there. And the best thing about incorporating the literature more, I think, is that it forces me to contextualize my work in relation to issues current in the philosophical mainstream. There's a tunnel vision that can set in when one is working continuously in a specialized field, but the more that one at least tries to be in dialogue with others, even if they are in the same specialization, the less likely that tunnel vision will set in. The downside of this is of course that if a profound change in perspective is needed, it's going to take longer to get there by warping the existing perspective than by starting fresh. The conventions of academic writing in this sense are such as to discourage real innovation, though no one did this on purpose. They're just trying to enforce professionalism, but when that standard is applied thoughtlessly, anything that says something you didn't expect looks unprofessional.
So I'm hoping that the new version of "The Gods and Being in Proclus," longer, more autonomous, and, above all, with copious discussion of modern authors, is far superior to the version which was rejected so curtly by Classical Bulletin. I also finished the review of Dmitri Nikulin's new book for the GFPJ—12 pages! The only other time I've written a review of that length was for the Cambridge Companion to the Stoics, which was after all a collection. We are also entering the season in which the CFPs come out fast and furious for conferences in the fall and spring semesters; there's maybe three I'd like to try for, so once I've got the Proclus essay polished off I'll try to get some of those off the ground.
With respect to pop culture, my major investment right now is in the latest Korean historical drama to hit these shore's, last year's smash hit Jumong, about a semi-mythical early Korean king of the first century BCE. The show stars Song Il-Gook, who was the second lead or romantic villain, if you will, in Emperor of the Sea. The show completely demythologizes Jumong, although he retains a certain mythic aura. I looked up his myth, however, and it makes for interesting reading. Here are a couple of sample pages:
http://www.pantheon.org/articles/c/chumong.html
http://www.clickasia.co.kr/about/m2.htm
And here's a poster. From left to right there's Jumong; his love Sosuhno; the good but somewhat ineffectual King Kumwa; Jumong's mother Yuhwa, a royal concubine; and Taeso, the evil eldest son of Kumwa (Taeso's mother is played by Kyun Mi Ri, who was also the villain in Jewel in the Palace.):
My other two weekly programs are The Dresden Files, which has really grown on me, and Gankutsuou: Count of Monte Cristo. These will be joined by Heroes, of course, when it comes back. Here's an image from Gankutsuou, which has the most unique look of any anime I have ever seen, just a riot of textures:
I'm also back on the comic books again. I'm giving Tad Williams' Aquaman and Jodi Picoult's Wonder Woman a chance, because it's interesting to see big shot novelists try their hand at these well-known (if not often well-done) franchises. But the excitement for me lately is the new 'Season 8' Buffy comics from Dark Horse, written by Joss Whedon himself. It really does feel like having the show back, and with an unlimited budget, albeit doled out in such miserly portions, the equivalent of what, a half-hour a month? It's such a shame that Whedon's Wonder Woman feature film deal fell through. The lady gets no respect! Speaking of ladies who demand respect, the other comic I'm really enjoying is Red Sonja. The only manga I'm following are Dokebi Bride and Moon Boy. I picked up the first issue of Mamotte Lollipop but haven't decided whether I'll keep up with it.
Been reading more pop fiction lately too. The major discovery in this regard is that I actually kind of like Laurell K. Hamilton. And I'm not talking about the early stuff—of which I haven't read any yet—but the recent stuff her old fans love to hate. I guess I just like anything where the author has waded so deep into the fictional world she's created that she's lost sight of the shore. I also read P. C. Cast's Goddess of Spring, which was a sweet take on Persephone and Hades, smotheringly cute at times, but suggestive for those who would read it theologically (of course I could read a cheese sandwich theologically at this point). I read Isabel Allende's Zorro, too, highly recommended if one has any affinity for this hero at all, because it's the definitive treatment.