OUR MAN WATSON

We keep asking: "Isn't it time to drop religious faith from human belief?" We also keep answering: "The answer is self evident." (Check out SUPERNATURAL DUMMIES and GRAY'S ANATOMY.) So it tickled us to see Deborah Solomon's Q&A with Peter Watson this past Sunday.

Peter Watson's latest bookYes, it was a promo for his latest book, "Ideas: A History of Thought and Invention, from Fire to Freud." But Watson offered no bullshit, less certainly than the usual maundering about religion that we see in newsprint. Some excerpts:

What do you think is the single worst idea in history?

Without question, ethical monotheism. The idea of one true god. The idea that our life and ethical conduct on earth determines how we will go in the next world. This has been responsible for most of the wars and bigotry in history.

But religion has also been responsible for investing countless lives with meaning and inner richness.

I lead a perfectly healthy, satisfactory life without being religious. And I think more people should try it.

It sounds as if you're starting your own church.

Not at all. I do not believe in the inner world. I think that the inner world comes from the exploration of the outer world -- reading, traveling, talking. I do not believe that meditation or cogitation leads to wisdom or peace or the truth.

Then I don't understand why you would want to write a history of ideas, since inner reflection and dreaminess surely count at least as much as scientific experiment in the formation of new ideas.

To paraphrase the English philosopher John Gray, it is more sensible to look out on the world from a zoo than from a monastery. Science, or looking out, is better than contemplation, or looking in.

We'll skip over Watson's disparagement of the novel as an art form, even though we're no big fan of Virginia Woolf either -- Solomon cites Woolf''s "rejection of the panoramic outward view in favor of inner sensibility" as an achievement -- to bring you a couple more gems:

You strike me as deeply unanalyzed. Have you ever considered seeing a psychiatrist?

I was a psychiatrist. I left because I thought Freud was rubbish. ... I thought Freudian therapy was a waste of time. I don't believe there is any such thing as the unconscious or the id.

In that case, where do you think ideas come from?

I don't think they come out of daydreaming.

But here's the kicker. We once tried to read Watson's previous book, "The Modern Mind," a great big tome subtitled "The Intellectual History of the 20th Century." Tried is the operative word. We couldn't get through it because it read so much like a textbook: Blah ... blah ... blah ... although it's useful as a reference tool. He must've been daydreaming when he wrote it. We hope this time he was fully awake.

Frankly, we have our doubts. The title alone makes us wonder whether the new one is just a retread with added prequel mileage. You'd think, given his interest in Gray, that something of Gray's style might have rubbed off on him. Watson has great material, but his writing (unlike his replies above) is so verbose. He prattles. Gray is just the opposite: tight, almost aphoristic. His hallmark is fascinating brevity filled with original ideas and striking observations.

-- Tireless Staff of Thousands

Postscript: It so happens, Gray liked the damned book. And since he knows a helluva lot more than we do about intellectual history, it seems wise to let you know what he said about it.

December 13, 2005 10:03 AM |

Categories:

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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