Aesthetics and the Face in Levinas and James
Stuart Rosenbaum
Baylor University
Megan Craig has done a wonderful job of seeking
constructive interaction between what appear two
disparate traditions—American pragmatism and European
phenomenology. Here I concentrate principally on two
dimensions of Craig's effort to bring thematic unity
to the philosophical work of William James and
Emmanuel Levinas. One dimension is motivated by
Levinas's use of the face; the other is motivated by
his attitude toward art. I also remark that where
Levinas focuses almost exclusively on deconstructing
intellectual ambitions of philosophy, James focuses
more broadly on turning the intellectual concerns of
philosophy toward constructing a more desirable human
world.
Levinas's concern with the face does seem to bring
into focus significant harmony between his
phenomenology and James's pragmatism; Levinas's
attitude toward art, however, is a source of doubt
about the possibility of bringing them to harmony
across the full range of their philosophical work.
Their disagreement about art also brings into focus
their disagreement about the intellectual work of
philosophy; where Levinas chooses to give a new
"twist" to the deconstructive work of philosophy,
James offers a philosophy that provides new and
constructive resources that had previously little
power in the Western intellectual world. Consider
first Levinas's face.
The Face "The face scrambles every
category" (Craig, 45). In so saying, Craig captures
the heart of Levinas's use of the face. And as Craig
further emphasizes, Levinas's face need not be
literally a face; it might be rather the arm
of Rodin's The Thinker or the nape of the neck
of the person just in front of me in the line we are
waiting in; and it might be other things as well. The
point of the face in Levinas is to bring
phenomenology fully into the human world, the world
in which one may always be unsettled by an encounter
with a face—or with a metaphorical face. Our efforts
to bring clarity through theorizing to the world of
our experience are indefinitely and perpetually
confounded by our experience of the face. As Craig
puts this point, "Both il y a and 'face' work
as reminders of the banality of everyday speech and
as 'barbarisms,' deconstructing philosophical
language (and the very possibility of
phenomenological description) from within" (Craig
42). And on this issue of getting a fully humanizing
perspective into our understanding of the possible
results of our theorizing, James is fully sympathetic
with Levinas. Here is one example of James's
approximation of the same, or at least a similar,
point taken from his chapter on Bergson in A
Pluralistic Universe:
But if, as metaphysicians, we are more curious
about the inner nature of reality or about what
really makes it go, we must turn our backs upon our
winged concepts altogether, and bury ourselves in
the thickness of those passing moments over the
surface of which they fly, and on particular points
on which they occasionally rest and perch. (103)
Although James himself does not have recourse
specifically to the face, as does Levinas, his
concern with particularity in preference to
abstraction is evident throughout his life and work.
Beyond their mutual concern with particularity, a
concern reinforced by different intellectual
strategies, I believe there is an important
difference between Levinas and James. Before I point
to this difference, let me mention some sources
outside the world of philosophy that seem to confirm
the propriety of Levinas's focus on the face.
The Poetry of the Face
Mary Oliver's Pulitzer-Prize winning poetry
collection, American Primitive, contains a
poem, "Flying," that captures poignantly Levinas's
use of the face to unsettle preconceptions and
expectations that pervade ordinary life. This Mary
Oliver poem, as one might say, "hits the nail on the
head."
Flying
Sometimes,
on a plane,
you see a stranger.
He is so beautiful!
His nose
Going down in the
old Greek way,
or his smile
a wild Mexican fiesta.
You want to say:
do you know how beautiful you are?
You leap up
into the aisle,
you can't let him go
until he has touched you
shyly, until you have rubbed him,
oh, lightly,
like a coin
you find on the earth somewhere
shining and unexpected and,
without thinking,
reach for. You stand there
shaken
by the strangeness,
the splash of his touch.
When he's gone
you stare like an animal into
the blinding clouds
with the snapped chain of your life,
the life you know:
the deeply affectionate earth,
the familiar landscapes
slowly turning
thousands of feet below.[1]
The experience of a face Mary Oliver captures here
may be what Levinas has in mind in his philosophical
recourse to the face. A face might at any moment
unsettle, renew, disrupt or complexify any fixity,
expectation or habit. Faces defy and challenge all
efforts at "totalizing" thought; they make manifest
what Levinas sees as the failure of phenomenology as
an expression of philosophical technique. Another
item:
The Science of the Face
Paul Eckman is a clinical psychologist who has
done extensive research on faces and emotions. Eckman
has published a dozen books and received many awards,
including the William James Fellow Award given by the
American Psychological Society. In reporting on
Eckman's research in Blink, a national
bestseller, Malcolm Gladwell puts its significance
thus:
What Eckman is saying is that the face is an
enormously rich source of information about
emotion. In fact, he makes an even bolder claim . .
. that the information on our face is not just a
signal of what is going on inside our mind. In a
certain sense, it is what is going on inside
our mind. (Gladwell, 206)
Eckman's psychological research confirms
scientifically, in a way that Levinas might not
appreciate, the subtle and wide-ranging
expressiveness of faces, and thus (perhaps) the
accuracy of Levinas's philosophical claims about the
face. Faces convey responses and subtle possibilities
of response, as well as much unexpected information,
well beyond our anticipations of what visual
experience of a human face might yield. Part of
Eckman's work in psychology is to uncover the
emotional content of facial expressions. In Eckman's
view, the myriad possibilities of facial expression
are biologically universal; faces in vastly different
cultures have biologically similar possibilities for
expressing attitudes and emotions.
Poetry, Science-Philosophy?
But an important question comes here, one
intimated by my suggestion that Levinas might or
might not appreciate scientific confirmation
for his focus on the face; the question is also
implicit in my taking Mary Oliver's poem to capture
the point of Levinas's focus on the face. The
question is this: Does Levinas regard philosophy
and/or phenomenology as autonomous in relation to
other areas of intellectual culture? Does Levinas
think it possible for his phenomenological,
philosophical use of the face to be captured by a
scientist or by a poet? This question is difficult,
and it is so partly because in Levinas the
face need not be a face, but it must
always be a means of confounding expectations and
undermining efforts to achieve conclusive, formulated
results.
In a section of her chapter on Poetry titled "The
Face of Words," Craig focuses the confounding and
undermining role of the face with a remark about
Levinas's ethics.
Levinas's ethics reorganizes with every
interruption of a face. If there is any way of
writing ethically about ethics, it will have to be
one that resists a final interpretation or
reiteration that might take the place of the
ongoing engagement with particular faces. The text
must remain open. Ensuring this openness involves
exploiting the aesthetic dimension of language as
an interruptive countercurrent to propositional
meaning. (Craig, 149)
Poetry in Levinas's understanding is a "face" for
phenomenological or philosophical analysis; its role
is to keep the text open; it must undermine or
interrupt efforts to express propositional meaning.
The aesthetic dimension of language, in poetry, is
the face in its interruption of efforts to achieve
the fixity of a defensible, justifiable proposition.
Philosophy, as ethics, must fail because it must
constantly encounter the face of poetry. In the same
way, ethics is an "ongoing engagement with particular
faces" and always escapes formulas that might be
applied to problems of living.
The face confounds propositional meaning; it
confounds results of theorizing; and it confounds
philosophical or phenomenological analysis. But can
any philosophy or phenomenology co-exist with
a concurrent, omnipresent source of "confoundation"
for whatever it might yield? I gather that the
answer to this question for Levinas is negative. But
this negative answer yields two results: the first is
that Levinas does regard philosophy or
phenomenology as autonomous by contrast with other
parts of intellectual culture, including poetry and
science; that poets and scientists are interested in
faces is irrelevant to Levinas's use of the face. The
second result is that philosophy or phenomenology
must fail at all of its traditional, primary tasks,
and this remains so no matter how interesting or
important faces are to poets or scientists. (For
poets and scientists, faces are not sources of
confoundation; they are a source of endless
possibilities and challenges for creatively engaging
our world.)[2]
If this representation of Levinas's view is
viable, then Levinas looks to be straightforwardly a
deconstructionist, the sort of thinker many of my
colleagues quickly dismiss as a relativist, even a
nihilist. (I hasten to add parenthetically, however,
that these same colleagues dismiss James and his
fellow pragmatists as equally relativists or
nihilists.) If Levinas ventures nothing that enables
getting analytical or phenomenological purchase on
his view-if there is always a face to confound
any result—then there is no possibility of expressing
or contesting his results intellectually. The face
becomes its own face.
Art
In their attitudes toward art, Levinas and James
appear to differ significantly. In Levinas, art is a
problem, though it surely yields faces to confound
the discursive tasks of philosophy and of
phenomenological description. In James, however, art
is not a problem; art is rather multi-faceted
possibilities for constructive engagement with the
human world in all of its aspects, including the
scientific.
Levinas may be suspicious of art; at least he
remains ambivalent about it, and regards it more
skeptically than do many other philosophers,
including, beyond James and Dewey, perhaps Heidegger
and Gadamer. The ethical and the aesthetic remain for
Levinas independent genres of life that may sometimes
overlap; or sometimes the aesthetic may "point" in
the direction of the ethical; or sometimes the
aesthetic may give affective power to the ethical it
might otherwise lack. Here is Craig's way of putting
the point:
To find oneself opened or made vulnerable by a work
of art is not to discover the ethical basis of the
self, but it is a reminder that vulnerability takes
many forms, that the self comes undone and awakens
multiple times in many ways. Levinas is highly
sensitive to the dangers of making ethics
aesthetic-as if ethics were something from which
one might disengage, or gawk at from a distance.
But there is an even greater danger in leaving
ethics without any emotional impact...[and]
producing a theory that bears no connection with
the living feel and unsystematic complexity of
life. (Craig, 182)
One upshot of Levinas's way of thinking about
ethics and art is that they are qualitatively
different genres of human culture, and that art as
the genre it is need not contribute anything
especially relevant to ethics or to the moral life,
though it may do so through some fortuitous
relevance of its engaging power. The power of art-its
"seductive lure"-coupled with its merely accidental
relevance to ethics justifies Levinas's ambivalence
about art and his distrust of it. Another way of
putting this point is to say that Craig's treatment
makes clear the resonance between Levinas's and
Plato's attitude toward art.
In James, there is no ambivalence about art of the
sort evident in Levinas. James's art includes human
activity in all of its forms, including all those
activities that make up the domain of ethics. James's
idea of art includes all goal-oriented activity that
requires intentional engagement, meaning almost all
activity that is not rote or habitual. Art is any
engaged and creative use of intelligence toward any
desired end.[3]
When it comes to ethics, James is not a
systematic, or Enlightenment-style, thinker, and in
this way he does serve as antecedent for and
confirmation of Levinas's wariness of attempts at
theory without connection to the living feel and
unsystematic complexity of life. James does not seek
system in his ethical thought; rather he seeks
satisfaction of demand, desire, hope and need among
all the present diversity of humanity. Philosophers'
responsibility as philosophers and as humans is to
seek, apart from system or theory, as much
satisfaction of and harmony among the vast varieties
of need that confront them in their own "thrownness."
As James puts this point in "The Moral Philosopher
and the Moral Life," moral philosophers are
"statesmen" whose primary tools are novels and dramas
of the deeper sort, ... sermons, ... books on
statecraft and philanthropy and social and economical
reform" (James, 210).[4] And although James does
not explicitly mention poetry in this passage, he
makes clear his policy of non-discrimination toward
useful modes of creativity. (As I write this, I
recall James's use of Whitman's poetry, but a flood
of equally relevant poetry comes also to mind,
including works by Keats, Browning, Frost, Auden and
Dylan Thomas; much poetry opens, reveals, surprises
and even shocks, and is thus important for moral
thinking and acting.) Philosophers in James's view
are omnivorous consumers of culture in the service of
human ends, in the service of ethics.
James's omnivorous attitude toward apparently
discrete parts of culture, evident in his thought
about ethics, is simply one more expression of his
orientation toward practice as the key to
understanding every part of culture. Theory, in
whatever guise or context it might appear—perhaps as
physics or as ethical theory or as phenomenology—is a
mode of practice. Here is one of James's ways of
putting this point, again from the chapter on Bergson
in A Pluralistic Universe:
What we do in fact is to harness up reality
in our conceptual systems in order to drive it the
better. This process is practical because all the
termini to which we drive are particular
termini, even when they are facts of the mental
order. ... [The] original and still surviving
function of our intellectual life is to guide us in
the practical adaptation of our expectancies and
activities. (100)
Human culture, including intellectual culture, is
qualitatively seamless in that it is always one or
another mode of practice. Standards of good practice
are of course localized in specific practices—are
"internal to" practices as Alasdair McIntyre would
say—but no standards are independent of successful
practice.
Theory, in whatever guise it may appear, is
subordinate to and a function of practice. This
commitment, evident in James, is a cardinal tenet of
pragmatism, and it stands Platonism on its head. No
longer need philosophers be "footnotes to Plato;"
they might instead be pragmatists. I suspect,
however, that Levinas's need for the deconstructive
power of the face marks him as a footnote to Plato,
as one who is not willing to cease from the striving
engendered by a Platonist need to wrestle
transcendence into "transdescendence." And another
mark of what may be the Platonist "dark side" in
Levinas's work is his apparent need to negotiate
about the legitimacy of poetry and art, to be
suspicious of those things in a way reminiscent of
Plato's attitude toward them in The
Republic.
Final Word
The general tenor of my remarks sets a kind of
countercurrent to Craig's primary focus on Levinas. I
find in her presentation of Levinas his consistent
and ongoing concern to deconstruct descriptive
phenomenology, to bring philosophy to its conceptual
knees. This understanding of Levinas provides a
definitive contrast with James's primary concern to
turn philosophy toward construction. Deconstruction
is a good when one must struggle with intractable
tendencies to theorize toward fixities, but leaving
behind that tendency—surely an intractable one among
philosophers of all sorts—brings a need to construct,
to build, to create and take responsibility for the
substantive content of the human world. James's
insistence on the subservience of theory to practice
enables focus on construction of the human world in a
way Levinas's deconstructive efforts to disable
philosophical theorizing do not.
Works Cited
Craig, Megan, Levinas and James
(Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press,
2010).
Gladwell, Malcolm, Blink (Boston: Back Bay
Books, 2007).
James, William, A Pluralistic Universe
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977).
James, William, Works, Vol 5: Essays in
Philosophy (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 2008).
Levinas, Emmanuel, Otherwise Than Being
(Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press, 1998).
Oliver, Mary, American Primitive (Boston:
Back Bay Books, 1983).
Notes
[1] Oliver, Mary, American
Primitive (New York: Back Bay Books, 1983),
34-35. Quoted from:
http://www.kirtiklis.com/i/ipblog/26sunday.html.
[2] For confirmation of this
claim about Levinas, see, for example, Otherwise
than Being, 89-97, especially 95-97.James's
perspective about art becomes clear in many sources,
but see, for example this passage from volume 5 of
James's collected works: "Art changes things for our
vision; religion for our vital tone and hope; science
tells us how to change the course of nature and our
conduct towards it; ...Tristan and Isolde, Paradise,
Atoms, Substance, neither of them copies anything
real; all are creations placed above reality, to
transform, build out and interpret it in the
interests of human need or passion" (147).
[3] The Will to Believe and
Other Essays in Popular Philosophy (Mineola, NY:
Dover Publications, 1956), 210.
[4] I realize that Plato
himself may well not have been a Platonist, at least
in the sense I am assuming is intended by Whitehead's
remark about Western philosophy. Platonism in the
sense I intend may be a caricature of Plato's own
views as some scholars have argued; the failure of
any of Plato's dialogues to achieve the goal of
analysis that was an explicit goal of all of them
should be a warning to all philosophers not to
presume too quickly that being a footnote to Plato is
any accurate representation of Plato's own
intellectual goals.
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