In ordinary times, one should write more blog posts as an outlet

Yesterday in the ontology seminar, we were chatting about writing academic papers. Lao Yang said that a certain junior female student’s homework papers — and, incidentally, mine too — contained a lot of personal, experiential material, and thus might seem very good and highly original to some teachers, while receiving very, very low grades from others (Lao Yang was definitely thinking of my grade in metaphysics class… ). On the other hand, there are some people who know how to write and produce papers that are proper and standard, and no matter which teacher reads them, they can still get a high score.

That is indeed so. A good paper must observe a certain academic norm. Its organization should be tight and clear, and it should not contain too much that is personal or impressionistic. (Actually I’m still fairly good on this count; Lao Yang was mainly aiming at that junior student.) But at the time I also said that if one spends years writing only those proper, standard academic papers, one’s individuality, vitality, wildness, and emotional side will probably be worn away more and more, until in the end one can at best become a “philosophical worker,” someone who does a fine job of relaying and organizing philosophers’ ideas, but has lost the potential to become a philosopher oneself.

Great philosophers’ styles of writing are often unconventional. Take Heidegger, whom that junior student introduced yesterday: in his later period, his works were basically no longer papers at all (but lecture transcripts), and moreover they quoted poetry and prose extensively and used metaphorical techniques. As for Wittgenstein, he was even more of an oddity: in his whole life he never wrote a single proper paper, and especially his later writings are simply scattered to the extreme, without even a full page of continuous argument. And yet he became the greatest philosopher of the twentieth century.

I often hear people around me say: how could we possibly compare ourselves with those philosophers? I say the same thing; every great philosopher in history is unsurpassable. But if saying we cannot compare ourselves with philosophers means that we should be content to be a “philosophical worker,” then I cannot quite agree. If you really are only content to be a worker who makes a living from philosophy, then you really can’t compare yourself with philosophers. But what is the essential gulf between me and a philosopher? Are philosophers and we different species?

Back then Wittgenstein asked Russell whether he had philosophical talent: if I can’t be a philosopher, then I’ll go be a pilot. I would rather say: if I cannot become a philosopher, or a “master,” I would rather become a folk philosopher than a “specialist.” I am not trying to make a living from philosophy. If my ambition or “presumption” will make my academic development somewhat unfavorable, then so what? Wittgenstein only formally published two little books in his life (the rest were published posthumously), whereas I casually published two silly articles in my third year of college; even if my “academic” path were to end there, wouldn’t that still be enough to be content? What I pursue is only to explore in the ocean of philosophy, not to find a job through philosophy.

However, I have always been a person who follows the rules. Although I have a heart that is arrogant and unrestrained, in practice I am only able to boast in private. Since I am within the academy, after all, I still have to live life step by step. I do not object to writing papers in a proper and orderly way. So yesterday I also mentioned: the best method is to write more useless things in ordinary times — essays, miscellanies, blogs — to “vent” one’s own unruliness, and then when writing papers, simply write them honestly and properly.

As Heidegger said, among the ways of expressing thought, writing is the least of them of all (properly conformist papers are even worse); better than that is lecturing, and best of all is discussion and dialogue, where thought “happens on the spot” and is the most real and vigorous. No matter how well a paper is written, no matter how much one publishes, that is all it amounts to. What I admire more is Wittgenstein’s academic method — although he published almost nothing in his lifetime, he was already renowned and had enormous influence. Why was that? Because he often discussed and exchanged ideas with the philosophers of the Vienna Circle, and because of his extraordinarily individual style of teaching.

At present I still have not found such an ideal “circle” willing to wildly chat with me. It is rare to find classmates with enthusiasm for philosophy, and when they talk with others they always seem to have a strongly academic air about them, so I can only keep my distance; as for truly arrogant and self-important folk philosophers, I don’t much like them either (but if they come looking for me to chat, whoever they may be, I will be very welcome). The key is that it still isn’t time to set sail, so I have not thought about taking the initiative to find anyone to exchange ideas with.

But such ambition of mine may perhaps be even grander than being a master: to lead a “school”! This has always been in my dreams. The person who leads a school does not necessarily have thoughts that are especially great. Take Schlick of the Vienna School, for example: his band of followers later seem to have achieved nothing less than he did. Yet if these people had not once gathered together, if there had been no Viennese cafés, the history of philosophy would have looked entirely different.

Yesterday that junior student also mentioned the café that Sartre and Beauvoir often frequented, and asked why they would chat and write in such a noisy, clamorous environment. We always feel that philosophers ought to be people who shut the door and do research all by themselves. If everyone thought this way, then probably no philosophers would ever come out of it. Philosophers are not, after all, meditators or hermits. If there were no open environment, if there were no conversation, no classroom, no discussion, and no café, how many philosophers could there be? The reason that Vienna in the early twentieth century produced so many philosophers, thinkers, artists, and writers is very simple: there were many cafés.

Come to the café with me!

2007-05-17 14:27

Latest Comments
  
mist

2007-05-18 11:39:25 Anonymous 210.56.216.23 [Reply]

I went to drink coffee with you once, and when I got back my head hurt all night… 
The Keke Forum perhaps can count as a discussion group. You should go participate more often too — and by the way, help me record more audio, and put it on ftp:-)

  
Gu Chu

2007-05-18 14:53:41 http://epr.ycool.com/ [Reply]

The Keke Forum is pretty good. Those teachers who are scientists and cultural figures are also among the few who write both papers and essays, so I quite like this academic field; the others who do scholarship are basically too academic and lack vitality. Another especially good one is Liu Xiaofeng, whose essays are excellent.  
China has no cultural tradition of cafés. When the old Plato Café first opened, it tried to position itself as a cultural-salon-style café, but after the World Cup opened, that positioning seems to have changed..

  
UNIC

2007-05-18 16:18:22 Anonymous 222.82.226.29 [Reply]

1、……but has lost the potential to become a philosopher oneself.  
——I agree. I think any scholar should have a unruly side, or at least should have critical thinking; one should have the ability to stand outside the crowd.  
But, just as Kant saw it, I also think this way, that is — wisdom, or perhaps truth, may well exist among the crowd. As Confucius said: among any three people walking, there is surely one who can be my teacher. I think so too.  
A truly formidable philosopher is someone who can learn from more people, whether from scholars, elders, or ordinary people.        
As for doing philosophy or doing poetry~~ I’ve always thought of a saying — it seems to be “a small retreat in mountains and waters, a great retreat in the world of men”~ Everyone understands the meaning. I think there is some truth in that.  
Whether it is nature or the world of men, these are all places where we learn, create, and are moved!  
2、As Heidegger said, among the ways of expressing thought, writing is the least of them.  
——Looking at it this way… we all seem rather miserable…  
I seem to have heard such a view before — the highest is bodily language — expression, the limbs, and so on.  
But is speaking and writing really a matter of rank?~ I don’t know that yet.  
As for writing more blogs~ I think that is right. It is indeed good to write some appropriately. But if it were me~~ then I would turn instead to poetry and literature to find relief. However~~ I seem to be the opposite… I’ve relieved too much~~~ I should write more papers and the like…  
As for cafés, perhaps a certain atmosphere is needed. But the academic atmosphere near Peking University should not be thin; what may be thin is the café-like atmosphere.  
In 《History of Twentieth-Century Thought》 I also read that section on the Viennese cafés (and another name I’ve forgotten). Back then that place really was… a paradise for scholars! There were libraries, there were residences… I remember that beside that introduction I wrote one character:  
“Ah…”

  
Gu Chu

2007-05-18 19:05:58 http://epr.ycool.com/ [Reply]

Heidegger’s consistent point is to emphasize “happening on the spot,” and not to like the “pre-set.” For example, if we take the use of natural force itself, waterwheels and windmills are better: when there is water or wind they turn, and when there isn’t, they don’t. But a “hydroelectric station” is not good, because the dam in turn has to control nature; humans want the water to flow when it flows and stop when it stops. So even though both are using natural energy, the essence is not the same. Likewise, when expressing ideas, what happens on the spot and what does not happen on the spot are not the same.

However, I actually don’t have much of a taste for Heidegger either. I always feel that there is something wrong with Heidegger’s stuff, but I can’t say exactly where the problem is (this state is quite in keeping with Heidegger’s way of speaking).

  
Xiaochong

2007-05-24 13:03:42 [Reply]

You should go to the report.

  
Gu Chu

2007-05-24 14:23:31 http://epr.ycool.com/ [Reply]

If it’s going to the café, then I’ll definitely give the report, no question about that.  
But recently I still haven’t returned to the café. Going to a place like a café requires a certain mood; otherwise the atmosphere simply won’t come out. It’s like going to Weiming Lake, though the mood required is a little different. Up to now I still haven’t found it again. So I don’t dare go to the café.

Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.