Has anyone else read part or the whole of Lakoff's Metaphors we Live By? I remember the portions I read at Wheaton struck a chord with me, the overtones of which have never quite ceased ringing in my ears. So I've decided to go back and look at the thing again and then to try to see where it sits vis the contemporary linguistic/psychological/sociological field today. If anyone's interested in talking about it or reading it with me, that'd be awesome. Otherwise, perhaps some of you could at least tell me if they've heard anything about how Lakoff is read these days. Is he, as one Michael J Edelman (a reviewer on Amazon) claims, "the aging bad boy of structural linguistics," who has unsuccessfully tried to "recast himself in the role of a social theorist" trying to force his linguistic methodology into a new field? [1] Or is the book to be "considered to be one of the most intellectually honest of any book in print, for it unashamedly deals with commonsense notions of how the human mind deals with the world" [Carlson]? Do these somewhat pedestrian analysis equally miss the mark?
Anyway, I'm interested in understanding a bit more about the way we as humans understand the world around us via metaphor (or even if metaphor is the best way to talk about the way we understand and operate socially).
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Dave, I have not read Lakoff's book, but it sounds interesting and I'm up for reading and talking about it.
With any luck, the discussion will fare better than the (current?) one on Einstein, which has struggled to generate interest. Maybe we need to stick to logic puzzles of questionable authenticity. Or perhaps a blog is just not the right medium for this kind of thing; I'm not sure.
Maybe we need to stick to catchy tunes and kitschy computer animation. I'd like to think we could find a way to sustain a dialogue about something.
But maybe we need to stick to "this day in history" posts about the Etch-a-Sketch. I wonder when the slinky was invented?
But maybe... oh nevermind. Time will tell.
AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Methinks I detect the slightest whiff of self-parody. On several levels!!!
(But it would have been better if I had written it. Most things are.)
Self-indulgent split personalities.
Dave,
I think this sounds rather interesting, but I'll need more time to think about it before I throw my two cents in the ring (to mix my metaphors).
I wish I had an alternate personality who could talk about how Stalin was really misunderstood... oh well.
There are schools of thought that say all language is metaphor, it's just that the metaphors we use for everyday speech have been evacuated of any power through their (over)use. This is one reason why Eliot and Pound talk about "purifying the language of the tribe" or claiming that yesterday's language was yesterday's language and tommorrow's speech has yet to be invented. Wallace Stevens (a significantly different thinker about language and poetry) makes a similar argument about metaphor and language-- the language that we use loses its efficacy and must be reborn through a kind of stripping away of outmoded poetic metaphors. Thus, in the beginning of Notes Towards a Supreme Fiction, Stevens's narrator rejects calling the sun Phoebus (because "phoebus" was yesterday's name for the sun) and says "the sun shall bear no name, gold flourisher"; he immediately adds "gold flourisher" (a metaphoric name for the sun) to his rejection of any name for the sun, showing that, no matter what, we WILL name the sun and that name WILL BE a metaphor for something. For Stevens, that something is always another metaphor, one interpretation of the "supreme fiction" being the fiction that there is something behind our fictitious metaphors (even the idea of something outside of metaphor is a metaphor; the idea of something outside of human contact/construction is a human construction).
This, of course, has wider social implications when we begin to look at our constructions of the world through natural and social sciences, politics, psychology, theology, economics, etc. It makes a difference if the goal of these sciences (sciencia) is not to find the hard kernel of reality but to discover new metaphors to replace the ones that we've worn out. It requires a redefinition of the world, nature, human nature, truth.
This may have absolutely nothing to do with Lakoff. In fact, it probably doesn't, but I thought I'd add something of my expertise to the mix. Pitch in where I can, and all that.
So, having read Edelman's comment on Amazon, I'm not surprised that only 3 of 8 people found it helpful. Anyone who wants to talk about the 20th century revolution in linguistics and doesn't mention Saussure is likely an idiot [even a cursory glance at Wikipedia would have helped him out on that one]. (He really seems to think that everyone was following Chompsky...) He also seems to have rather naive and reactionary views of the sciences, knowledge, truth, etc.
Having not read the book, I can't say if Carlson's praise is justified, but I think I would be more inclined to discuss the book with him than with Edelman, for what that's worth.
Dave, you might want to consider some other possibilities for how humans understand the world around us. I think that metaphor is a really interesting paradigm. So is intentionality (Husserl, for instance); Heidegger provides a different but indebted version of experience as intentionality, and Lacan provides another derivative from Heidegger (mixed with Freudian psychoanalysis and some of his own lovely craziness). Levinas envisions primary experience of the world (and therefore the condition necessary for the possibility of understanding) as responsibility; before anything else, I find myself responsible for the other people with whom I come face to face-- in fact, the experience of responsibility is what calls me into existence in the first place.
Anyways, not to give you a huge, theory-heavy reading list, but I think it is always worth keeping in mind that (as Stevens might remind us) the choice is not simply between the world as metaphor or the real world of neuroscience and quantifiable biology. There are numerous models for understanding human experience/understanding of the world, and they all have their own strengths and weaknesses. There really is no trump card, analytical or metaphorical; there is only experience, and experience is manifold, vast, complex and always changing. OK. I'm done now.
Perhaps someday I will find time to read your Hurssel, your Heidegger, your Levinas; then perhaps Stevens against Eliot and Pound. Then we might be able to have a robust conversation.
I'm pretty sure I'm not walking on the same creative path you intend for yourself--the constant redefinition of the world without any calling-out toward/receiving from a fixed point of reference. I know the structural difficulty behind this point of departure (on my behalf), but I can do no other.
I don't think this binds me to the "finding the kernal" paradigm, though; my subject, my source, my hope and hoped-for desire is much more expansive, eternal, beyond my span of speaking than any "kernal" can possibly represent. At the same time, this great and ellusive (yet strangely present) being is not arbitrary, is not at all an aspect of my creative possibilities (to say the least!)--even my best and most ironical ones. Yet I follow a very "conservative" pattern of belief regarding Scripture and revealation. Such are the bare outlines of the responsibilities I carry around in me.
Well, no surprises for you I'm sure. Just wanting to say these things because they are what come to mind as I read what you've written.
But that may get us off track regarding Lakoff, I'd still like to talk about some of his concepts. I'll post a few in the few weeks and see if anyone wants to discuss...
And Coye, you'll have to forgive my abrupt and somewhat irritating tone; but I simply don't have, in this time in life, the time/mental energy to write with the care I with which I ought to write. I'm sorry; yet, if I am to write at all, it has to be such as this.
Dave, no worries about your tone, etc. It's just good to hear from you, even when it's disagreement, even when it's things we've disagreed on for a long time and probably will indefinately. [just for kicks, do you remember when I was the uptight ultra-conservative who refused to consider biological evolution because I couldn't square it with my conception of original perfection and the fall? Funny, huh. I guess I tend to go all out on whatever I do...]
Anyways, you probably don't need to read Heidegger and Husserl and most of the people I reference, though you might enjoy them and gain something from them if you ever do have the urge to read them. They are important to me for personal and professional reasons, and my thinking often runs in grooves that their feet traced out, but there are other ways and other thoughts. I'm glad you put up resistance to me. It's good for me, and I appreciate it.
I also really like the elegant way you put this: "I'm pretty sure I'm not walking on the same creative path you intend for yourself--the constant redefinition of the world without any calling-out toward/receiving from a fixed point of reference. I know the structural difficulty behind this point of departure (on my behalf), but I can do no other." It is a beautiful statement and a wonderful conception-- for both of us. I think perhaps we are very close in our search for that which calls us out or calls us into being (in whom we live and move and have our being).
Anyways, I don't want to get too blubbery, but I do want to say thank you for writing and for writing so much as yourself. I had a bit of a heartbreak yesterday, and it did me a deal of good just to hear something from you. It is very comforting to know and to be known. Much love.
[I do remember. Not so much as the categories you have described, but as specific instances. First, we are at Saga sitting midway in the section just to the left of the main tiled and skylighted division (the section which had windows facing the football practice field to the East and the football field to the south). Rob issitting with us; he isn't saying much. I am peppering you with "what about this" sorts of questions. You are sitting, slightly hunched, answering each question with a slight emotional edge in your voice, with what seems total and unswerving conviction. It's evening. Then, in my memory, we're walking back from Saga; the three of us. The stars are out, the secadas are singing their tragic songs, you're talking about a debate between a creationist you highly admire and Carl Sagan, noting that Sagan relied only on personal attacks to match what was clearly a better argument from the other side. I was listening to you, intrigued by the tone of your voice, and assuring that my feet didn't walk on the cracks in the concrete.
Next, I remember you showing Andy and me your spiral-bound notebook of your own philosophical manifestos which you had written either in or just after high school. Page upon page upon page of slanted, hurried hand written text.
Then, quite a bit later, I remember asking you about the book you were reading for history of philosophy as we both sat in the T6 lounge. It was either by or about Thomas Aquinas. This was the first time I learned that people refer to him as Thomas and those who follow him as Thomasts. You were reading as you paced the room. Fully focused, until--of course--I came in and interrupted you!
Then, quite a lot later, you were reading Wittenstein (I am not bothering to get the spelling right), in my RA dorm room. You were reading him out loud to me; a section about social transactions in the terms of "game." You read with a lively sense of the text, following the rising and falling lines of humor and analysis to a T.
Then, much later indeed, I remember visiting you at your apartment on College Ave. It was the end of my senior year. You had your long hair pulled into a pony tail, you were sitting crossed legged on the floor while I sat on the couch. We were talking about your intellectual journey, then we were discussing Paul and his letters. I was asking question after question. You were responding with a little less emotional edge (though the traces were still there), a little less certainty (but not in terms of the developed trajectory). You had just had your heart broken, too. We talked about that as well. I think we prayed together. Then I left, stepping uncertainly down each metal stair to the pavement, the sidewalk, the road, the parking lot, the entry way, and the stuff of packing up my own college experience.]
Much love to you too, Coye. Your friendship has been and continues to be very important to me.
thank you
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