Yet again, the topic of how to begin philosophy comes up. Many philosophy teachers emphasize the need to “stand on the grand” and “start from a high point.” This tendency exists in philosophy, in logic, and in religion alike: teaching first-year students is treated as if the goal were to train academic specialists, so last year in philosophy introduction we were told to start by reading pure criticism, and in logic class we were immediately taught highly advanced mathematical logic, while the cultivation of interest was neglected. It is like showing elementary school children who have just encountered mathematics calculus and linear algebra—there is no benefit other than scaring the children. Of course these things are all extremely important; even beginners should come to recognize the solemnity and depth of academic study. But in any case, proceeding step by step and guiding patiently is surely the more ideal approach.
Thinking of my own problem, I once half-jokingly said something along the lines of not wanting to be an “expert”; if I were to do it, I would rather be a master. What I really meant, though, was that I do not hope to become an “expert,” not that I am so arrogant as to think I can become a master.
I do not greatly admire Zhao Dunhua’s scholarship, but one of his remarks did resonate with me very strongly. In the general preface to the series “New Essays on Morality and Philosophy,” he wrote: “As for myself, I too am making efforts at interdisciplinary research. Though others call me an expert, I know that I am merely a wanderer in the world of thought.” Professor Zhao put it much better than I could, hehe. So what I want to be, too, is such a “wanderer,” I suppose.
As a beginner, the range of books I read is too broad, and my interests are too broad as well. Besides refusing to let go of philosophy’s many second-tier subfields, I also want to dabble in physics, biology, psychology, sociology, anthropology, and so on and so forth, to the extent that I am unable to lay a sufficiently solid and deep foundation in any one field. Compared with some classmates who are building from the ground up in a solid way, my foundation is far too thin! If their path is the right one, they may build skyscrapers one after another and achieve profound accomplishments in their field (of course, if the path goes astray, they may either build collapses or end up making a chimney; that is also possible), whereas the way I am learning now dooms me to the impossibility of building a great edifice. Of course, I have never thought of building a towering high-rise; that does not suit my interests. I only have a very thin foundation, but I want to make my plot of land as broad as possible, as inclusive as possible, leaving myself a sufficiently expansive space for development. And my purpose is not to make the building go higher and higher. What I want to build is a garden! A place that arranges flowers, plants, pavilions, terraces, towers, and halls—strange flowers and exotic grasses of different styles, temperaments, and origins—in a staggered yet orderly way, forming a whole full of spirit, a whole in which one is intoxicated within it and heaven, earth, and humanity blend into one another—seeking not depth, not height, only harmony and concord.
最新评论
Qi Huang
2005-12-01 20:17:06 [回复]
I don’t envy the towering tree; it’s also good enough to become a quiet but still vibrant patch of grass. Keep at it, brother!
Chong
2005-12-02 00:00:02 [回复]
Hehe, this is a defense of one’s own methodology. The way I see it now, whether one truly follows the right path is related to one’s temperament; the problems one faces along the way, such as the question of breadth or narrowness, depth or breadth, will naturally come to the fore at a certain point in one’s circumstances of reading and thinking, so there is no need to make a declaration this early, xixi.
Gu Bo: What I’m talking about is precisely my personal temperament. My temperament is not that of a towering ancient tree or a lofty peak, but rather a quiet stretch of lake water or a meadow of fragrant grass. My pursuit is merely to circle around a small lake and, following the natural flow of water and terrain, build a garden harmonious with people and the environment. In fact, a garden does not need to be built especially large, but a garden must certainly be rich, diverse, inclusive, and harmonious… These are what I mean by an exposition of “my own methodology.”
Xiaochong
2005-12-04 15:12:38 [回复]
Self-temperament is also a process of continual discovery and shaping. In any case, let everyone work hard and that will do.
2005-12-01 20:17:06 [回复]
I don’t envy the towering tree; it’s also good enough to become a quiet but still vibrant patch of grass. Keep at it, brother!
2005-12-02 00:00:02 [回复]
Hehe, this is a defense of one’s own methodology. The way I see it now, whether one truly follows the right path is related to one’s temperament; the problems one faces along the way, such as the question of breadth or narrowness, depth or breadth, will naturally come to the fore at a certain point in one’s circumstances of reading and thinking, so there is no need to make a declaration this early, xixi.
2005-12-04 15:12:38 [回复]
Self-temperament is also a process of continual discovery and shaping. In any case, let everyone work hard and that will do.
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