miercuri, 17 martie 2010

The Poets and the Animals

IT IS AFTER ELEVEN. His mother has retired for the night, he and Norma are downstairs clearing up the children's mess. After that he still has a class to prepare. “Are you going to her seminar tomorrow?” asks Norma.
“I'll have to.”
“What is it on?”
“‘The Poets and the Animals.’ That's the title. The English Department is staging it. They are holding it in a seminar room, so I don't think they are expecting a big audience.”
“I'm glad it's on something she knows about. I find her philos-ophizing rather difficult to take.”
“Oh. What do you have in mind?”
“For instance what she was saying about human reason. Presumably she was trying to make a point about the nature of rational understanding. To say that rational accounts are merely a consequence of the structure of the human mind; that animals have their own accounts in accordance with the structure of their own minds, to which we don't have access because we don't share a language with them.”
“And what's wrong with that?”
“It's naive, John. It's the kind of easy, shallow relativism that impresses freshmen. Respect for everyone's worldview, the cow's worldview, the squirrel's worldview, and so forth. In the end it leads to total intellectual paralysis. You spend so much time respecting that you haven't time left to think.”
“Doesn't a squirrel have a worldview?”......

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