GRAY'S ANATOMY

Our favorite philosopher John Gray on René Descartes, by way of a book review, is a pleasure to read -- and a reminder that the great rationalists of Western thought owe a heavy, too heavy, debt to their religious origins and impulses.

It's not just that "Hegel's philosophy reproduced a Christian view of history"; or that "Locke's liberalism was rooted in his version of theism"; or that Descartes, an "avowed Catholic believer," had "an affinity with hermetic and occult thinkers" and may have been -- take your pick -- something of a Rosicrucian wacko or something of a Jesuit secret agent spying on Rosicrucian wackos.

Gray's point is that, by failing to take account of their religious origins and impulses, we acquire a deep misunderstanding of much Western philosophy, to say nothing of the pernicious roots that feed our murky 21st century. "For all his advocacy of methodical doubt," Gray writes of Descartes, "he adopted the moral prejudices of his time slavishly."

This is nowhere more clearly shown than in his view of animals as insensate automata -- a ridiculous view whose truth he attempted to demonstrate in some disgusting experiments. Modern philosophy might have developed very differently if its founder had followed the example of Montaigne in applying a degree of genuine scepticism to the anthropocentric prejudice that consciousness is a uniquely human phenomenon. We might have a more interesting body of ethical theory, and a wider philosophy of mind. ...

The notion that we alone are conscious is an error inherited from western religion, not a result of scientific inquiry. The fantastical theory of Cartesian dualism -- the idea that brain and mind are radically distinct but somehow interact -- could probably never have arisen except in a culture whose view of humanity was formed by Christianity.

But the influence of Christianity has no monopoly on vile human affairs. Far from it. We need only cite the front page of this morning's New York Times, which quotes the nauseating shouts of a radical Muslim, as he watches an old video showing the decapitation of Nicholas Berg by his Iraqi captors:

"Go to hell, enemy of God! Kill him! Kill him! Yes, like that! Cut his throat properly. Cut his head off! If I had been there, I would have burned him to make him already feel what hell was like. Cut off his head! God is great! God is great!"

Yeah, God's terrific. And so are all those Muslim true believers.

We asked the other day: "Isn't it time to drop religious faith from human belief?" The answer is self evident.

-- Tireless Staff of Thousands

November 18, 2005 11:41 AM |

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Me Elsewhere

'WILD SIDE' STILL ROCKS 

Nelson Algren was one of the great American authors of the 20th century, it is no exaggeration to say, and among the most neglected. Consider his underrated classic, "A Walk on the Wild Side." The title -- popularized and co-opted as an idiomatic phrase by Hollywood and Madison Avenue (institutions Algren loathed) -- is familiar to most anyone who speaks English or knows Lou Reed's lyrics. But the novel itself? Hardly.

BUSTER KEATON REVISITED 
Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat is not a biography. "This book is merely a fan's notes," Edward McPherson writes in the introduction, although his publisher ignores the disclaimer and calls it a biography on the cover. In fact, the book is a bit of both, a difficult combination to bring off unless you're David Thomson, who set the standard with Rosebud, his penetrating rumination on the life and career of Orson Welles, which was nothing if not a distillation of every obsessive thought he ever had about the myth and the man and all his movies.
LAUREN BACALL, STILL SALTY AT 80 
When Lauren Bacall writes that her singing voice ranges "somewhere between B minus sharp and outer space," she's being candid and funny. It's not every stage star with two Tony Awards for best actress in a musical whose vocal talent offers so little promise. (OK, Harvey Fierstein excepted.) Still less would one admit it.
THE STARS ACCORDING TO BOGDANOVICH 
Peter Bogdanovich's superb collection of movie-star profiles and interviews -- a sequel to Who the Devil Made It, his interviews of top film directors -- begins with an affectionate tale about Orson Welles that reminds us just how intimate the author's connection to Hollywood's greatest has been. But contrary to what we've come to expect from dime-a-dozen celebrities and celebrity interviews not worth two cents, the tale avoids bromidic egotism and journalistic platitudes.
SAMMY'S WHITE DREAMS 
Four decades ago Lenny Bruce sentenced Sammy Davis Jr. to "30 years in Biloxi," stripping him of "his Jewish star" and "his religious statue of Elizabeth Taylor." Now we have two new biographies of Davis that spring him from ridicule, if not from doubts about his legacy, and restore a measure of dignity to a black entertainer whose huge fame and success never overcame his devout wish -- indeed his lifelong effort -- to be white.
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