Best reads of 2011

It's been a busy year, and 2012 is looking to get even worse. I have, however, not allowed my studies to disrupt my education, and have managed to get through a few books. Here is my list of highlights from 2011:

1) Marshall and Eric McLuhan: 'Media and Formal Cause' and 'The Medium and the Light.'

Marshall McLuhan (the man behind catchphrases such as 'the medium is the message' and 'global village') is one of the philosophers taken up by Graham Harman, the 'object-oriented' one in the 'speculative realist' milleu. I have mentioned earlier on this blog how Harman draws on the metaphysics of Bruno Latour, but fails to fully appreciate the subtle Catholicism in the latter's philosophy. This year I learned that McLuhan was a convert to Roman Catholicism. Hence, two of the most important philosophers drawn on in the most interesting recent philosophical movement were/are themselves (to put it carefully) blurring the boundaries between philosophy and theology. In 'Media and Formal Cause,' the McLuhans (Marshall wrote much with his son Eric, who is still producing) make more explicit the role of Aristotelian/Thomist formal causality in their analysis of modern media. The failure to understand formal cause accounts for our failure to understand the 'deep' effects of various media, and also the nature of reality as such. In 'The Medium and the Light,' Eric has collected the most explicit religious writings of his father's.

2) Bruno Latour: 'On the Modern Cult of the Factish Gods'

A couple of years ago, Bruno Latour 'came out' as a philosopher. Obviously, his project had never been about the sociology of science at all, but always about ontology - more precisely, the kind of ontology that might account for the ontologies of modernity itself. In this essay collection, he continues to 'come out,' as a religious philosopher. That is, a philosopher who seeks to think and speak religiously, if not necessarily about religion (though the essays do touch upon typical topics of philosophy of religion). Latour is one of those who blur the boundary between the 'secular' and the 'religious' to such a degree (and so generously) that it sometimes feels like a relief to let go of the whole distinction.His reflections on the loudly publicized clashes between 'religion' and 'science' provide entertainment as well as encouragement for those of us who (perhaps because based in Oxford, where the 'science-vs-religion' industry particularly thrives among old as well as young and promising atheists and apologists alike) are beginning to become sick of the whole theatre.

3) Patrick Rothfuss: 'The Wise Man's Fear'

The sequel to the best fantasy novel (I was about to write 'ever written') I have read did not disappoint! The multitalented Kvothe spends a second day recounting his incredible life story to the visiting scribe called Chronicler. I have yet to write about the series on this blog, but for me it already ranks high above both Martin and Hobb. I am delaying the analysis in a kind of reverent fear of what Rothfuss might be up to next. Highly recommended!

4) Michel Serres 'Malfeasance: Appropriation Through Pollution?' 

Michel Serres's reflection on the nature of property connects the mental pollution of advertizing billboards with the ecological pollution in the global backyard of modern Western civilization. A beautifully written (as always) meditation on the world, on the violence on which the modern civilization of 'peace' is founded, with even a few gestures to the God Incarnate, who claimed nothing for Himself, and so left no material trace; no womb, no bed, no grave. Serres simply calls us to make the decision that a certain amount is 'enough.' One wonders why we don't.

Questions for A Song of Ice and Fire

The past months we have been reading G.R.R. Martin's (what is it with fantasy and long names?) series A Song of Ice and Fire. Currently HBO is developing a TV series based on it, even though Martin has still to finish at least three remaining books.

In short, this is a far more raw and explicit storyline than the Robin Hobb series we had just finished (me like!), but nevertheless it is the 'underlying' cosmic plots that grip me the most. Underneath the surface level where vain individuals strive for power through manipulation and violence, with only token references to religious aspects of life, I read this as a story of re-enchantment.

On a second level, it is the story of religious adaption and 'competition'. The 'new' gods of Westeros (in fact seven aspects of a single godhead - one 'strange' one of which one should not speak) have overtaken the "old" nameless (nature-) gods who are still only worshiped in the North. Another element in this mix is the Citadel, a  monastic/academic institution training a kind of all-round renaissance men - 'maesters' - who are sent out to use their medical and academic skills in life-long (preferably) service of each lord in Westeros, regardless of internal conflicts. The maesters, with their medicines and history books are the closest one gets to a kind of scientific disenchantment in this world, as they have little regard for 'religion' other than as an unfortunate yet perhaps necessary cultural cohesive. It is suggested that the Citadel has (perhaps deliberately) forgotten the magic always present in the world, and that the narratives surrounding their own practices have been changed when they 'lost the magic'. And of course this magic is now emerging in many ways. A common fantasy plot, in other words, almost predictable.

On yet another level, the conflict between the "old" and "new" Westerosian gods (with the Citadel as third part) seems to be about to be swallowed up by a dualism with R'hllor the Lord of Fire on the one hand (imported from foreign Southern lands by priests dressed in fiery red colours), and the ice-cold and nameless Other on the other (...). Here seems to lie the background for the overarching title of the book series, A Song of Ice and Fire. So far, while only a few characters seem to favor the fire-Lord, the ghost-like 'Others' of the far Norths have until now been portrayed as purely evil, which could suggest some kind of favoritism in this cosmic battle between a single harsh but providential Lord and his Unspeakable arch-enemy. The difference between Ice and Fire remains somewhat ambiguous. Both sides of the dualism seem able to - in some degree at least - resurrect the dead, though the 'cold' side leaves its re-awakened emotionless and the 'hot' side gives them a relentless passion for vengeance. Both sides demand human sacrifice, and indeed, certain servants of the Lord of Fire often bulldoze over local customs in their pious fervor. On this level, it seems the peoples of Westeros are trapped in a cosmic dualistic battle they are ultimately (so far) unable to comprehend.

If you happen to be a fan, and react to how I don't mention the local Drowned God of the Iron Islands, it's because I think the inclusion of this god seems forced. I don't think he adds much to the cosmic plot for now - though perhaps he will in the remaining books. Martin does not hesitate to kill main characters and continue the story following someone else. More interesting is the One of Many Faces worshiped in the bravosi House of Black and White. This is interesting because it suggests that dualism is finally dissolved in annihilation. The God of many Faces is death itself, to which all peoples must finally surrender, as one priest makes clear.

So on one level, a domestic battle between Northern 'deep ecology' featuring nameless nature gods and 'godswoods' rather than specific holy shrines, and a Southern imported pietist 'seven-who-is-one' theism with a hierarchical structure and proselytizing sectarian sub-divisions (and even a standing army!). On another level, a cosmic Dualism of Ice and Fire, both relatively mysterious and unknown.

Will we be left to mourn the loss of the 'deep-ecological' innocence of the children of the forest, or will this 'natural' monism of old be restored in the end, albeit in a modified version? Will Dualism prevail, even if by violent opposition, like a cold war in which two immeasurably strong sides keep one another in check? Will humanity be portrayed as an irredeemably destructive presence in the world, in contrast to the 'mythical' (yet still present) children of the forest, or will the children of the forest turn out to be human after all, despite the Citadel's (unconsciously) memory-erasing narratives?

More fundamentally, perhaps: The dying maester Aemon (no less than 102 years old) hints that the frozen Wall that keeps the cold Ice at bay cannot endure the presence of Fire, suggesting that the battle itself is ultimately no more than cataclysmic self-destruction disguised as heroism and piety. However, one passing remark made by another character (a mystical 'child of the forest'?) that "ice and fire are ultimately the same" suggests that the deep-ecology of the children of the forest is intertwined with the old Northern gods - the "warm springs" over which Winterfell was constructed -, and that an 'old' (I am tempted to say 'pagan') monist ontology ultimately prevails.

In short: are we here dealing with the good old equation "Dualism = Monism"?

It could of course be that Martin prefers to leave these questions open, which would be suggesting that Reality ultimately consists simply of necessarily violent competition contingently held in check by some arbitrary sovereign power, which would be capitalism all over again, which would be very disappointing. But again, that would only mean suppressing the actual declaration of monism's empty victory after all. If the House of Black and White is any indication of how dualism ultimately plays out, the final word will be had by nothing other than Death itself.

But I speculate. Enjoy the TV series - winter is coming!