Saturday 17 September 2016

Spinoza, Part 2

Man in the Universe - a scene from 'Barry Lyndon' (1975).

How can we understand our mind through Spinoza’s teaching? Through his metaphysical speculations, Spinoza went further to provide a mechanistic explanation of the human mind. He believed that when humans behaved rationally, the mind was a self-directed mechanism, because the motivation of humanity was self-preservation. Thus, that is what we mean by ‘selfish’ in the context of Spinoza’s philosophical ideas (not quite like ‘greedy’). The word Spinoza has used was ‘conatus’, also important in British philosopher Thomas Hobbes’ philosophy. Conatus can be defined as the innate inclination of a thing to continue to exist and enhance itself. In the third section of Ethics, Proposition 6, ‘Each thing, as far as it lies in itself, strives to persevere in its being.’ So, Spinoza believed that the ‘will to continue’ is something inside all of us, and it is a force of Nature to strive and go forward, rather than to perish as ashes.

What makes up our mind are that of ideas, and due to the chains of causes and effects, these ideas will be connected as a coherent system, and the result is a mental mechanism present in our mind. The net result of the action of this mental mechanism leads to consciousness. Thus, when we are rational, we are like ‘spiritual automatons’, who work in a mechanistic manner and yet have consciousness, rather than like philosophical zombies or robots. This is Spinoza’s unique take on psychology.

A particular important view regarding the philosophy of mind is Spinoza’s monism. In Ethics, Spinoza did address the ‘Mind-Body Problem’, almost a holy grail for generations of thinkers. While his predecessor, Descartes, took a dualistic view on the mind and body problem, stating that they were two separate substances in the world; Spinoza’s view is known as ‘parallelism’. That suggests mind and body are one and the same thing, and there is no point to separate them or to argue which one is truer than the other one. Spinoza believed that the action of the mind was at the same time with the action of the body – thus parallel in a sense, and so the modes of mind are isomorphic to modes of body.

I have read a nice analogy regarding this mind-body issue in another book, ‘Understanding Rationalism’. In that, the author compares Spinoza’s monism to the development of algebraic geometry. When you have, for example, the equation of a straight line y = mx + c, it has a corresponding graph on the Cartesian plane. The equation and the graph both represent the same thing, so they are one and the same. There is no point to ask whether the graph is realer – in a metaphysical sense – than the equation or vice versa. You can say the equation lives in an algebraic world, and the graph lives in a geometric world, like two parallel universes. Yet the key point is, they are identical to each other. Indeed, it is rather ironic that Descartes, which is coined as the father of modern analytic geometry, has not been able to connect with this rather interesting analogy and instead has proposed a Dualism in the mind-body problem.

Spinoza has illustrated to the readers the real face of the universe. Now, how can one live well in this apparently indifferent universe? Spinoza’s project is to release us from the imprisonments of false assumptions and mis-conceptions, because these are the obstacles that will prevent us from living a more fulfilling life. The ultimate aim of the Spinozistic way is to achieve the intellectual love from God, meaning that one develops a better understanding of oneself and the relation to Nature.

Before that, we have to confront a rather controversial issue - the illusion of free will. This sounds rather counter-intuitive because, for our experiences, we are often free to choose, right? Yet, to Spinoza, the mis-conception about the existence of free will leads to our enslavement and pain. If we are asking the wrong question, how can we reach an insightful answer? For Spinoza, there simply may not have a choice between determinism and free will. The sadness we get from our lives is due to wrong assumptions which are originated from passions – for example, believing there will be a God who will do us justice. Spinoza stated that if we wrestled with all these false impressions, we would never achieve a virtuous life.

Does that mean humanity does not deserve freedom? Spinoza disagreed. Because for him, freedom took a deeper layer of meaning. To be free is to be free of the sentiment, false assumptions and wrong conceptions that will only serve as burdens to one’s way to happiness. To Spinoza, if one can appreciate the working of Nature and be able to go naturally with the flow, they will gain an intellectual fulfillment and find true happiness for their existences. If one can control the passions and view the Nature with awe, they can still be gratified to see that they are part of an elegant and wonderful universe. Spinoza’s God will only award those who are willing to step out from the comfort zone of ignorance and alter their attitudes to see the real world for themselves.


After all, you do not have to agree with Spinoza – he was just one of the many wise men who have contributed significantly to human knowledge. Yet to me, if reading Spinoza will motivate your inquisitive mind to give some real thoughts about the human condition, then I suppose he has succeeded.    

(2/2)

by Ed Law
17/9/2016


Wednesday 14 September 2016

Spinoza, Part 1


Very recently, I have read a new book about the philosopher Benedict Spinoza, known as ‘The Spiritual Automaton - Spinoza's Science of the Mind’ (ISBN: 9780199675531), by Professor Eugene Marshall. It is a nice updated book about Spinoza’s ideas, and I highly recommend this to anyone who enjoys knowledge. I have always had an intense admiration on Spinoza, and although he was someone who existed like 400 years ago, his brilliant ideas seem to manage to connect well with our age. Therefore I will talk about Spinoza this time.

Upon an examination of a portrait of Spinoza, one can easily develop an impression that Spinoza was a humble, friendly sort of person. Indeed, after he has become a private scholar, he lived quietly in a small room as a lens grinder, and throughout the years developed and wrote his original philosophy. He was known to decline a professorship from a university, because he felt that could compromise his free-thinking status through a private scholarship. Thus, one may assume that Spinoza’s philosophical ideas are about how to be a great guy and so on, right?

Spinoza as a cold rationalist

No! If you read through Spinoza’s philosophy, you will find that to be extremely – cold. What the reassurance you want from Spinoza, he does not give you any. His Magnum opus, ‘Ethics’, a book supposed to show us how to live an ‘ethical’ existence, was written in an abstract and geometrical manner. In Spinoza’s view, there is not a God who comes from another universe, behaves like a Superman, and has a score book to weigh the good and bad of humans and judges who should be punished. God is not a friendly dude, by the way. Spinoza believes that we are all selfish – but he has placed no moral considerations in this thorny word. What he means is that the most important human action is self-preservation, and so a normal person should behave in a self-directed manner. And, for us to live a happy life, Spinoza feels that we do not need religion or sentiment. What we need is an intellectual understanding of our real self and to develop a love of Nature. If this is the real face of Spinoza, then why is he considered inspirational, and why should I celebrate such an apparently heartless blockhead here?

Spinoza’s teachings may sound abstract and cerebral, yet I guess the most important thing to get out from that is to see that his ultimate aim is to encourage us to explore and confront the reality of human existence. To do this, we have to unveil the appearances that have been presented to us, or fed to us, though value judgments, religion, authority, or the so-called ‘common sense’. Spinoza has the faith to see human beings are rational, and because a sense of truthful well-being can be attained in our lives, we first have to understand our places in the universe, and how our minds interact with our surroundings. Spinoza was an academic of incredible integrity – he did not rely on story-telling or rhetoric to convince his readers. Instead, he demonstrated (in a mathematical sense), in a logical and rational manner, the metaphysics of humanity, so that we can work through and see the consequences by ourselves. By defining God, Mind and other important terms, Spinoza led us through a journey of wisdom.

If we ask Spinoza whether he believes in the existence of God or not, he will likely first ask you for a clear definition of God. Because his understanding of ‘God’ is very different from the traditional ‘God’ present in religion. In Spinoza’s words, his God is equivalent to ‘God / Nature’, the slash suggesting the two words are interchangeable. Therefore, Spinoza’s God is an impersonal one, and there is no ‘Daddy’ element at all in his interpretation of the ultimate deity. His God can be seen more as a force of nature, or the order that governs the things in the world. His concept of God is indeed an abstract one.

Over the centuries, philosophers have provided many proofs and discussions on the existence of an ultimate deity. Spinoza, who was among one of these wise men, did believe in the existence of God! Yet, what was most original about his idea is that, first, his conception of God was very different from any of his predecessors – he was considered an atheist by many due to his stunning conception of the ‘Big Boss’. And, in his Magnum opus ‘Ethics’, Part 1, Proposition 11, stands the ultimate statement about God. It is long and detailed, yet it can neatly summarize in 3 words – ‘God Necessarily Exists’. Curiously, it is the central word, ‘necessarily’, that is the most important and defines Spinoza’s thoughts. Spinoza believes that in a rational universe, things happen by necessity, thus reality is constructed through a chain of causes and effects.

What can Spinoza’s God, which is also equated with Nature, offer to humanity? Spinoza’s naturalistic conception of God shows us that God is not a transcendent being  - that means it does not come from another realm, like the Platonic forms, and not inaccessible like those cases. Rather, it is immanent, meaning that it is in ourselves, it is part of our world. Of course, that seems to strike with Nietzsche’s outlook in general. For both Spinoza and Nietzsche, when one needs to solve a problem of human nature, there is no point to ask for God’s help from another world. Rather, all the answers can be found ‘in this world’. Therefore, for Spinoza, humanity is part of nature – and to appreciate this position in the universe is essential before we continue to understand the working of our minds and the way to enhance our well-being through our existences.

Two further implications are evident from Spinoza’s conception of the universe. First, it suggests the world is operating in a deterministic manner, which is also in tune in the contemporary scientific development such as Cartesian or Newtonian mechanics. Because things happen by necessity, so the actions are linked through chains of defined causes and effects. And, it also suggests the train of action is moving on a single route – there are no other possible ways to go further. Spinoza’s God is not anthropomorphic or benevolent - it is a deterministic system that cannot feel or commit to any sort of sentiment.


Second, Spinoza’s philosophy is mechanical in nature. Those the causality of events, the universe operates as a mechanism, just like the demonstration of mathematical concepts, when they are linked by necessity. Spinoza was considered as one of the mechanical philosophers of the 17th century, though he has made himself clear that he was not a materialist or an atomist, for which a number of other mechanical philosophers, such as Boyle and Hobbes, were associated with.

(1/2)

by Ed Law
14/9/2016


Saturday 10 September 2016

Barry Lyndon


The tableau of human existence often resembles a large chessboard. All of us, who are engaged in a game of survival, are pawn pieces that can be eliminated due to the slightest lapse of judgment. In such a brutal battleground, we often have to submit to the most unexpected circumstances and then perish amidst the complex web of causes and effects. Yet, how often can we understand the secrets behind all these human experience? Is it possible that we are controlled by a sort of driving force, that we are inaccessible to and are often beyond our control? After all, can we detach ourselves from the subjective feelings that have always entrapped us and achieve a higher level of understanding regarding our humanistic existence? If you are fascinated by the above questions, then the film I am discussing at length in the coming weeks is the one for you – Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon (1975) !



‘Barry Lyndon’, a 18th century period drama, was one of Kubrick’s major efforts at the 1970s. The script was based on W. M. Thackeray’s novel ‘The luck of Barry Lyndon’, though the perspective and the plot elements were very different in Kubrick's version, giving the film a unique charisma of its own. ‘Barry Lyndon’ is important because it is a surrogate for Kubrick’s abandoned project, ‘Napoleon’. All the efforts and preparations for ‘Napoleon’ would be fully realized in ‘Barry Lyndon’, from an insistence on natural light photography to the authenticity for the details in terms of plot, set design and costume. Given the available materials that have been passed on to the later generations, one can appreciate that ‘Napoleon’ would likely to be Kubrick’s most ambitious project, and this could also be felt when one was viewing the abandoned project’s cousin, ‘Barry Lyndon’.



At an epic length of 3 hours, the 1975 film chronicled the rise and fall of a social climber, Barry Lyndon (starring Ryan O’Neal), and the story also shed lights on many issues regarding human existence. Like many other Kubrick films, ‘Barry Lyndon’ received mixed reviews upon its initial release, and performed poorly at the box office. The film still managed to receive 4 Oscars, and Kubrick was nominated for Best Picture, Director and Adapted Screenplay. Nevertheless, ‘Barry Lyndon’ has stood the test of time, and more people have become aware of the film over the years, and now it is considered as one of Kubrick’s towering achievement.


Let me be frank – I am certainly not a ‘special species’ who has a stunning endurance for apparently ‘boring’ materials. When I first watched ‘Barry Lyndon’ in my teenage years, like many viewers, I felt the film to be extremely slow and boring. Yet, the film has certainly left an intense impression on me, and many of the filmic images in the film have lingered long in my mind since my first viewing of the film. I believe my first impression in ‘Barry Lyndon’ was caused by a thirst for sensation or sentiment in my early years of watching films, and ‘Barry Lyndon’ seemed to offer the viewers neither of these ‘emotional pornography’. When I have grown up, I have been able to realize the futility of fake sentiment and have started to think deeper into the many issues regarding human nature. Thus, I decided to give this boring film another chance. This time, it was a completely different experience, and the numerous insightful observations ‘Barry Lyndon’ has offered represented great inspirations for me to probe into the questions regarding  the human condition. Now, ‘Barry Lyndon’ has an extremely special place in my heart. It is one of the only three films that have significantly influenced my worldview, the way I look at the world. The other 2 contenders are iconic in their own ways, too – Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Rashomon’ and Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’.


I have the strong commitment that, as a faithful follower of Stanley Kubrick, I have to recommend ‘Barry Lyndon’ to you, for both practical and personal reasons. The major reasons are because the film is far less known when it is compared to the other late Kubrick films, and more important, it is an intensely misunderstood film. The two issues seem to intertwine in a curious way. The reason why ‘Barry Lyndon’ is a lesser known Kubrick film is likely because the audience are misled to believe that the film is ‘cold’, ‘boring’, ‘clinical’, and ‘slow’ – some of the labels splattered by certain ‘critics’, for whom I doubt whether they have the patience to finish off the whole film and then make a fair comment. The comments from these ‘walk-out-at-20-minutes’ personalities are abundant on the web, and I suppose the wrong message have been passed on as a result.



Which, I think, is rather paradoxical. ‘Barry Lyndon’ is a very subtle film, because the film does not have heightened characters like those in ‘2001’, ‘A Clockwork Orange’ or ‘The Shining’. That suggests the film does not have a Wow factor that makes one jump out of the seat. Indeed, the characters we find in ‘Barry Lyndon’ are normal people, who are desperate for survival in a hostile world. Many of these characters are dark, hypocritical and negative, yet they are very realistic – they are the archetypes who are timeless and can be easily identified in our world. Many audiences can be able to identify with the protagonist, Barry, and it should not be surprising that our world is full of Barry Lyndons – social climber, opportunist, amoralist. On the other hand, ‘Barry Lyndon’ has some of the most compassionate and emotional moments in any Kubrick films, and I believe those detractors have likely left the cinema at those moments, so they are oblivious to those scenes. That is why I think it is rather strange, because ‘Barry Lyndon’ is a Kubrick film which is most relevant to the human experience, and I suppose any audience who are inquisitive about humanity should be interested in such a film. To me, ‘Barry Lyndon’ is possibly the most Kubrickian film of all – it is in the film when Kubrick expresses his insightful views about humanity and showcases his unique approaches to film art. The secret to appreciate ‘Barry Lyndon’ is patience and an open mind. ‘Barry Lyndon’ is a film that rewards multiple viewings, because one viewing is simply not enough to take in all the stunning filmic images and themes. If you have the patience to engage with Kubrick’s stunning period piece, you will find ‘Barry Lyndon’ a calm and unsentimental film, yet ripen with witty black humor, surprising and awe-inspiring twists, rich human insights and genuine emotions.


A brief sketch on the story. The plot follows a two part structure, detailing the rise and fall of a layman  in the 18th century, known as Redmond Barry (Ryan O’Neal). An omniscient narrator is also present to provide observations and some of the dark and cynical humor. From a humble beginning, Barry longed to have a social status and a true love. Barry was just a chess piece on the enormous chessboard of humanity. After killing an opponent in a duel for passion, Barry was forced into exile, only to learn later that, his opponent faked his death so that the girl’s family could chase Barry away from town, and she could marry Barry’s opponent, who was richer and would lead to a better economic prospect. Circumstances and the Seven Years’ War drove Barry into different fronts, and his solace was a warm-hearted family friend, Captain Grogan. Yet when Grogan was killed in a skirmish in the most circumstantial way, Barry realized that he had to be ruthless and took any chances he encountered, if he still wanted to stay in the game and prospered in such a hopeless universe. Eventually, luck knocked on Barry’s door, when Barry courted and eventually married Sir Charles Lyndon’s wife, Lady Harriet Lyndon -of course, after Sir Charles died untimely from a heart attack.  Barry became Barry Lyndon, like some sort of a double existence. But his dark side eventually caught up with his bright future, when he estranged the timid Lady Lyndon, amassed financial problems and ignited the wrath of his stepson, Lord Bullingdon. Would fate spare Barry Lyndon, and would Barry lead to a happy end and actualize his life? Wait a minute, didn’t the narrator tell us the answer halfway through the film ...?!



For the time being, if you are interested in Stanley Kubrick and yet have not watched ‘Barry Lyndon’ before, just give it a shot!



by Ed Law
10/9/2016

Film Analysis - 69


Saturday 3 September 2016

Through A Glass Darkly


Ingmar Bergman’s ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ (1961) is considered as a member of a trilogy of films, which also includes ‘Winter Light’ (1963) and ‘The Silence’ (1963). While I plan to discuss all 3 films as a whole in a later article, as they all possess a common theme on religion and the related spiritual questions, I am in particular fascinated with ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ as it also involves psychological themes. That will be the focus of this article.

Influenced by the chamber plays of Strindberg, ‘Through A Glass Darkly’ possesses a 3-act structure and the setting is extremely claustrophobic The scenes are minimalist in the sense that there are only four major characters in the film, and, while it may sound a bit of a cliché, the characters act as mirrors for each other. The intensity of the story rests on the claustrophobic environment and also the intimate interactions for the limited number of characters. On the other hand, the story takes place on a defined place and a defined period of time – a 24-hour period, which reminds me of Aristotle’s Poetics – and his criteria on the unity of drama. This is also an attribute much treasured by Andrei Tarkovsky’s later work.

Four family members took a vacation in a secluded island, but in a Bergman film, it was unlikely to be a happy experience. First, the schizophrenic Karin was just out from an asylum. His father, David, was not too content, neither. He was a novelist suffering from a writer’s block. And then there was Karin’s husband, Martin; and Karin’s younger brother, Minus, who did not have a great relationship with his father David. Karin’s delusions (or genuine spiritual experience) led her to believe that God was calling her; and David was desperate to have progress in his work by writing about Karin’s plight as the inspiration. Martin was not too happy about this. On the other hand, Karin insisted that her experience with God was real and she pressed responsibilities of everything, including her misconduct with his brother Minus, as callings from God. Frustrated by the fragmented experiences that were tormenting her psyche, Karin asked for permission to return to the asylum, before stating one final time that she has seen God coming and ‘God is an evil-faced spider, and his eyes are cold and calm’ - as it was only a spider which emerged from the place where she believed God would have emerged. Karin was returned to the hospital by Martin, and Minus finally had a real conservation with his father, and they both knew they had the chance to reconcile.

The minimal number and intimacy of the characters suggested that each of them could serve as mirrors for the others. While these reflections were not objective representations of the true affairs, they could at least serve as a motivation for introspection, and also served as a viewpoint for the various characters to ponder on their own personalities. Bergman’s faces are the mirrors for the characters and the audience alike – it is the gesture to invite all of us to confront our true nature.

Bergman, like Robert Bresson and Carl Theodor Dreyer, could be all considered as ‘spiritual filmmakers’. Yet in Bergman’s work, he has often been skeptical about the existence of God. Karin’s spiritual experience in the attic was questionable, as Bergman has not indicated to the viewers whether her hearing from God was a genuine experience or just clinical dementia. This has led me to draw parallel to the situation of Joan of Arc, for which Bresson and Dreyer have made stunning films about; and I have also talked about ‘The Passion of Joan of Arc’ in the past articles. Many subsequent academics have questioned the authenticity of Joan of Arc’s spiritual experience, suggesting what she has believed to the ‘voice of God’ could just be her schizophrenic condition. So, the call to protect her country may after all be a clinical delusion! Certainly, these theories are all speculations because that are no ways to verify these hypotheses empirically. Nevertheless, this serves to illustrate the complexity of psychological issues, and the interplay between the spiritual and psychological dimensions of the human condition.

by Ed Law
3/9/2016

Film Analysis