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heyimaghost's review against another edition
4.0
This is probably the first really 'hard' read I've had in a while. Mr. Barfield has a way of saying things in such an abstract way that there were times when I had to step back and say to myself, 'I know what those words mean, but I have no idea what he just said.'
My main problem with the book is that I could not determine if his concept of 'collective representations' was literal or philosophical. Now, of course, there is an argument throughout the book that the literal and the symbolic do not by necessity have to be separate. So, perhaps, that answers the question right there; however, I fail to be persuaded that my view of reality--or Western society's view--is what makes nature--or, as he calls it, 'phenomena'--appear the way it does. That sounds like something straight out of a stoner's mouth. I do, however, agree that your philosophical and theological views change the way in which you view reality. For example, it is quite fair to say that Medieval man viewed nature differently that Modern man; but again, I cannot be certain of Mr. Barfield when he says the exact statement, whether he means it literally or philosophically. But now we're only going in circles. I'll just say this, I've been an advocate for the belief that nature, among other things, can be both literal and symbolic for probably my whole life, but I cannot abide nonsense that would claim a tree or a fox was quite literally seen as a different image by a man, simply because his philosophy, theology, or 'collective representations' are different than mine. The image of nature has been a constant, in my opinion; although, the concept of what nature is and our view of it has certainly changed with our philosophical view. Maybe that's all he's trying to say about that. Like I said, I had a hard time figuring that out.
His concept of 'participation,' and especially 'final participation' was the hardest part of the book for me to grasp. While it is heavily tied in to the concept I just finished discussing, and that was somewhat of a difficulty, the main thing I failed to grasp was what exactly 'final participation' is. I think I have a fair grasp of his concept of 'idolatry,' meaning the 'phenomena,' or nature, has become devoid of meaning outside the literal; but I am unsure of how 'final participation' is supposed to fix it. In the most simplistic of forms, I would explain it thus: 'original participation' was the view of 'phenomena' as being imbued with God, meaning God was in everything and everything--including man--was connected; whereas, 'final participation' is when man has taken the creator role, not replacing God, but joining Him, and imbuing the 'phenomena' with the Word. In today's society--thanks mostly, according to Mr. Barfield, to the Scientific Revolution--we lack any participation and have turned the 'phenomena' into 'idols.' I can easily agree with that, but only in part agree with the concept of 'final participation' I cannot, however, bring myself to believe that it will be achieved in any earthly way. But perhaps that is what Revelations means by a 'new Heaven and a new Earth.'
I like his criticism of modern science, which views nature as something outside of ourselves. We are observing nature, simply unaware of the fact that we are a part of it. In Portland, where I live, nature, upon first glance, appears to be a big part of the community. The roads are thick with trees and most houses look like they have gardens of wildflowers instead of yards. There are parks everywhere. But it feels less like nature is a part of the society, and rather like nature is around the society. It's a nice decoration, and we all enjoy looking at it, but just like a picture of a distant relative, it's hard to feel yourself truly connected to it.
He does, at the end of the book, discuss Christ's and Christianity's role in bringing about 'final participation, and his interpretation of the Parable of the Sower is hard to argue with, as well as one of the most interesting interpretations of it that I've ever read. But to a certain degree, his final chapter smacked a bit of blasphemy. I'm quite sure I'm misreading what he meant, but I got the impression that all those 'I Am' statements of Christ--'I am the way, the truth, and the life. . .' 'I am the light of the world. . .' 'I and my Father are one'--would one day be statements we could honestly make, once 'final participation' is fulfilled. He directly says, 'at each "I am" the disciples must have heard the Divine Name itself, man's Creator, speaking through the throat of man; till they can hardly have known whether he spoke to them or in them, whether it was his voice which they heard or their own.' That type of statement is not new to me. I've heard it from many theologians of the 20th and 19th century, but I baulk at the notion that we will one day be one with the Father. Not because, like some have said, because I long to keep my identity. I agree with C.S. Lewis's view, that we will be absorbed into the Godhead, in the sense that we will be made perfectly His own, and therefore become perfectly individualized, and in that sense, we can say 'I and my Father are one,' meaning 'my views and my Father's are the same;' but to say it with Christ and in the sense that He meant it--I refuse such theology. Of course, I could be entirely wrong on what Mr. Barfield was saying. Perhaps he simply meant it in the sense that the name of the Jews echos the name of their God, so that they could feel a deeper connection between them and God than simply the Creator/creation connection--that he was inside their very being.
Certainly, writing this out has helped me to better formulate my views of this book. I will consider rereading it later, after reading other books by Mr. Barfield perhaps. While is was not an easy read, it did give me many things to contemplate, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to a nice, easy novel now.
My main problem with the book is that I could not determine if his concept of 'collective representations' was literal or philosophical. Now, of course, there is an argument throughout the book that the literal and the symbolic do not by necessity have to be separate. So, perhaps, that answers the question right there; however, I fail to be persuaded that my view of reality--or Western society's view--is what makes nature--or, as he calls it, 'phenomena'--appear the way it does. That sounds like something straight out of a stoner's mouth. I do, however, agree that your philosophical and theological views change the way in which you view reality. For example, it is quite fair to say that Medieval man viewed nature differently that Modern man; but again, I cannot be certain of Mr. Barfield when he says the exact statement, whether he means it literally or philosophically. But now we're only going in circles. I'll just say this, I've been an advocate for the belief that nature, among other things, can be both literal and symbolic for probably my whole life, but I cannot abide nonsense that would claim a tree or a fox was quite literally seen as a different image by a man, simply because his philosophy, theology, or 'collective representations' are different than mine. The image of nature has been a constant, in my opinion; although, the concept of what nature is and our view of it has certainly changed with our philosophical view. Maybe that's all he's trying to say about that. Like I said, I had a hard time figuring that out.
His concept of 'participation,' and especially 'final participation' was the hardest part of the book for me to grasp. While it is heavily tied in to the concept I just finished discussing, and that was somewhat of a difficulty, the main thing I failed to grasp was what exactly 'final participation' is. I think I have a fair grasp of his concept of 'idolatry,' meaning the 'phenomena,' or nature, has become devoid of meaning outside the literal; but I am unsure of how 'final participation' is supposed to fix it. In the most simplistic of forms, I would explain it thus: 'original participation' was the view of 'phenomena' as being imbued with God, meaning God was in everything and everything--including man--was connected; whereas, 'final participation' is when man has taken the creator role, not replacing God, but joining Him, and imbuing the 'phenomena' with the Word. In today's society--thanks mostly, according to Mr. Barfield, to the Scientific Revolution--we lack any participation and have turned the 'phenomena' into 'idols.' I can easily agree with that, but only in part agree with the concept of 'final participation' I cannot, however, bring myself to believe that it will be achieved in any earthly way. But perhaps that is what Revelations means by a 'new Heaven and a new Earth.'
I like his criticism of modern science, which views nature as something outside of ourselves. We are observing nature, simply unaware of the fact that we are a part of it. In Portland, where I live, nature, upon first glance, appears to be a big part of the community. The roads are thick with trees and most houses look like they have gardens of wildflowers instead of yards. There are parks everywhere. But it feels less like nature is a part of the society, and rather like nature is around the society. It's a nice decoration, and we all enjoy looking at it, but just like a picture of a distant relative, it's hard to feel yourself truly connected to it.
He does, at the end of the book, discuss Christ's and Christianity's role in bringing about 'final participation, and his interpretation of the Parable of the Sower is hard to argue with, as well as one of the most interesting interpretations of it that I've ever read. But to a certain degree, his final chapter smacked a bit of blasphemy. I'm quite sure I'm misreading what he meant, but I got the impression that all those 'I Am' statements of Christ--'I am the way, the truth, and the life. . .' 'I am the light of the world. . .' 'I and my Father are one'--would one day be statements we could honestly make, once 'final participation' is fulfilled. He directly says, 'at each "I am" the disciples must have heard the Divine Name itself, man's Creator, speaking through the throat of man; till they can hardly have known whether he spoke to them or in them, whether it was his voice which they heard or their own.' That type of statement is not new to me. I've heard it from many theologians of the 20th and 19th century, but I baulk at the notion that we will one day be one with the Father. Not because, like some have said, because I long to keep my identity. I agree with C.S. Lewis's view, that we will be absorbed into the Godhead, in the sense that we will be made perfectly His own, and therefore become perfectly individualized, and in that sense, we can say 'I and my Father are one,' meaning 'my views and my Father's are the same;' but to say it with Christ and in the sense that He meant it--I refuse such theology. Of course, I could be entirely wrong on what Mr. Barfield was saying. Perhaps he simply meant it in the sense that the name of the Jews echos the name of their God, so that they could feel a deeper connection between them and God than simply the Creator/creation connection--that he was inside their very being.
Certainly, writing this out has helped me to better formulate my views of this book. I will consider rereading it later, after reading other books by Mr. Barfield perhaps. While is was not an easy read, it did give me many things to contemplate, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to a nice, easy novel now.
blackoxford's review against another edition
5.0
An Aesthetic Epistemology
What a wonderfully insightful, erudite and concise example of reasoning! It almost doesn’t matter weather Barfield is correct or not because the sheer elegant beauty of his thinking is so enticing. That he is correct, however, is a good bet, a bit like discovering Plato is a pseudonym for Helen of Troy and she’s asked you out on a date.
Barfield starts with the apparently innocuous example of a rainbow. Obviously the rainbow doesn’t exist except when it is seen. The particles of water which physically exist in the air-space of a thunderstorm are not the rainbow. The rainbow is constituted by that phenomenon and the human eye and brain in concert. This is ‘Kant for dummies’, and very effective.
Then extend that observation of the rainbow to the entirety of creation. None of it exists unless it is perceived, or as Barfield terms it, becomes a representation in the human senses. That’s right, the tree falling in the forest doesn’t make a sound if there’s no one to hear it. Even more surprising, “there is no solidity if there is nothing to feel it.” This talent to make representations, shared with many other creatures, Barfield calls “figuration.” Think of this as a confirmation of the modern corporate management principle: if it don’t get noticed it don’t exist.
A little clarification might help ease the threat of solipsism. A representation is something I perceive to be there. The same goes for you and everyone else. If my representation is different from that of others, this calls for an explanation. If a satisfactory explanation is found (e.g. differences in distance or persecutive on a phenomenon) then my representation ends by being part of a collective representation. If an explanation cannot be found, we’re stuck with social tension.
But it is also crucial to recognise that all the collective representations taken together with whatever personal representations we each may have don’t reduce what is unrepresented. We can say that the unrepresented is what is independently there and is undiminished in its infinity when anything becomes represented. In that case the world that we all accept as real is in fact a system of collective representations but it cannot be anything approaching the reality of what is there, or the phenomena that take place. This is so partly because of human sensory and technological limitations. But it is also a consequence that we are constantly choosing what to notice (to perceive) depending on what interests us.
What we then do with representations is remarkable and probably unique in the world as far as we know. We use language to name the representations and so develop words, ideas, concepts. This Barfield calls “beta-thinking” which is characterised by an intimate “participation” with the phenomenon we are engaged with.
Participation has a very specific meaning for Barfield beyond mere involvement. It is the “extra-sensory relation of the human being and the phenomenon.” In other words, beta-thinking uses language. The existence of the phenomenon depends fundamentally on this participation, that is, providing words for what we perceive. This provides the necessary condition for the creation of collective representations as well as subsequent cultures. Different words, different phenomena.
Our species has yet another unique skill. We can think about representations as something independent of ourselves and then consider representations in their relations with each other, a kind of analysis or theorising. And we can think about the nature of collective representations as such, and their relation to our own minds. This is a special kind of reflective ability which considers language independent of its figurative uses. Barfield calls this “alpha-thinking.” Alpha-thinking is akin to what can be called rational or scientific reasoning.
The three modes of thought interact more or less continuously, acting as what would be called (much later) cybernetic regulators on each other. But there seems to have been an evolution of this interaction within recorded history. Alpha-thinking has grown much more important. This can be documented in a number of interesting ways.
For example, when we translate the Greek ‘nous‘(νους) as ‘mind’ and ‘logos‘ (λογος) as ‘reason’ or ‘word’, “we are in continuous danger of substituting our phenomena for theirs,” among other reasons because the Greeks had simply not developed alpha-thinking as we have. They participated in phenomena they describe such that the significance of the ancient Greek really can’t be recaptured. Their divine pantheon to us presents many problem of logic that simply never occurred to them. Their ideas of personal virtue were not ethical abstractions but practical demonstrations by epic heroes.
Perhaps the most compelling proof of the shift toward alpha-thinking is the so-called Copernican revolution, which also involved Kepler and Galileo. The ancient Greek notion of ‘hypothesis’ is that it is an explanation which “saves the appearances,” not in the sense of avoiding embarrassment but because such an explanation would account for the facts at hand acquired by beta-thinking. The Greeks weren’t bothered at all if several hypotheses accomplished this objective, even if they were contrary to each other. Respect for the factual data not theory was paramount.
Thus the idea of a heliocentric universe had been mooted and commonly known as early as the sixth century in a commentary on Aristotle’s treatise on astronomy (De Caelo). The real turning point in science occurred when Kepler and Galileo, and Copernicus “began to think not just that the heliocentric hypothesis saved the appearances but was physically true, in fact an ultimate truth.” This constitutes the real Medieval scientific revolution, not merely a change in paradigm but a fundamental shift in the nature of thought itself. Hence the Church could allow Galileo to continue to teach Copernicanism as an hypothesis that saved the appearances, but not as a truth.
What was feared by the Church in its condemnation of Galileo was a new theory of theory, namely that if some theory saved all the appearances, it was identical with truth. In other words, that if such a theory became a collective representation and used in alpha-thinking, it would be taken for more than an “artificial as if” Such an assertion would quite rightly be considered an idolatrous statement (the Church, of course, failed to comprehend that its great doctrinal edifice was exactly that for the same reason; Barfield misses the point as well, so forgive him his last two chapters).
So, concludes Barfield, “A representation which is collectively mistaken for an ultimate ought not to be considered a representation. It is an idol.” Through this insight we are able to detect what is essentially the evolution of idols from around the point of the Copernican revolution - a succession of claims to the ultimate truth of successive collective representations, all ultimately overthrown and forgotten as false idols. But yet each subsequentLy ‘confirmed’ hypothesis claiming to be true.
This continuous quasi-revolution in thought occurs in part because of the nature of language itself which means something slightly different today than it did yesterday; but also because alpha-thinking is inherently dialectical. It inevitably seeks the flaws in itself through the process of turning personal into collective representations. Indeed, that appears what we mean by inquiry tout court. And yet many scientists, religionists, ideologues as well as many other purely obnoxious people continue to insist that they know the truth. This is not only idolatry, it is hubris of the most intense order. And the insistence on ultimate truth is the best criterion of likely falsity I have ever come across in a lifetime of searching.
Postscript: Barfield’s theory is, as far as I can tell, exactly the same as the semiotic theory put forth by C. S. Peirce a half century earlier. Barfield’s ‘representation’ is functionally equivalent to Peirce’s ‘sign’. And the modes of thought, that is, figuration, alpha and beta-thinking, track Peirce’s First, Second, and Third. Barfield doesn’t mention Peirce so I presume that he knew nothing of his work or the work of other American pragmatists.
What a wonderfully insightful, erudite and concise example of reasoning! It almost doesn’t matter weather Barfield is correct or not because the sheer elegant beauty of his thinking is so enticing. That he is correct, however, is a good bet, a bit like discovering Plato is a pseudonym for Helen of Troy and she’s asked you out on a date.
Barfield starts with the apparently innocuous example of a rainbow. Obviously the rainbow doesn’t exist except when it is seen. The particles of water which physically exist in the air-space of a thunderstorm are not the rainbow. The rainbow is constituted by that phenomenon and the human eye and brain in concert. This is ‘Kant for dummies’, and very effective.
Then extend that observation of the rainbow to the entirety of creation. None of it exists unless it is perceived, or as Barfield terms it, becomes a representation in the human senses. That’s right, the tree falling in the forest doesn’t make a sound if there’s no one to hear it. Even more surprising, “there is no solidity if there is nothing to feel it.” This talent to make representations, shared with many other creatures, Barfield calls “figuration.” Think of this as a confirmation of the modern corporate management principle: if it don’t get noticed it don’t exist.
A little clarification might help ease the threat of solipsism. A representation is something I perceive to be there. The same goes for you and everyone else. If my representation is different from that of others, this calls for an explanation. If a satisfactory explanation is found (e.g. differences in distance or persecutive on a phenomenon) then my representation ends by being part of a collective representation. If an explanation cannot be found, we’re stuck with social tension.
But it is also crucial to recognise that all the collective representations taken together with whatever personal representations we each may have don’t reduce what is unrepresented. We can say that the unrepresented is what is independently there and is undiminished in its infinity when anything becomes represented. In that case the world that we all accept as real is in fact a system of collective representations but it cannot be anything approaching the reality of what is there, or the phenomena that take place. This is so partly because of human sensory and technological limitations. But it is also a consequence that we are constantly choosing what to notice (to perceive) depending on what interests us.
What we then do with representations is remarkable and probably unique in the world as far as we know. We use language to name the representations and so develop words, ideas, concepts. This Barfield calls “beta-thinking” which is characterised by an intimate “participation” with the phenomenon we are engaged with.
Participation has a very specific meaning for Barfield beyond mere involvement. It is the “extra-sensory relation of the human being and the phenomenon.” In other words, beta-thinking uses language. The existence of the phenomenon depends fundamentally on this participation, that is, providing words for what we perceive. This provides the necessary condition for the creation of collective representations as well as subsequent cultures. Different words, different phenomena.
Our species has yet another unique skill. We can think about representations as something independent of ourselves and then consider representations in their relations with each other, a kind of analysis or theorising. And we can think about the nature of collective representations as such, and their relation to our own minds. This is a special kind of reflective ability which considers language independent of its figurative uses. Barfield calls this “alpha-thinking.” Alpha-thinking is akin to what can be called rational or scientific reasoning.
The three modes of thought interact more or less continuously, acting as what would be called (much later) cybernetic regulators on each other. But there seems to have been an evolution of this interaction within recorded history. Alpha-thinking has grown much more important. This can be documented in a number of interesting ways.
For example, when we translate the Greek ‘nous‘(νους) as ‘mind’ and ‘logos‘ (λογος) as ‘reason’ or ‘word’, “we are in continuous danger of substituting our phenomena for theirs,” among other reasons because the Greeks had simply not developed alpha-thinking as we have. They participated in phenomena they describe such that the significance of the ancient Greek really can’t be recaptured. Their divine pantheon to us presents many problem of logic that simply never occurred to them. Their ideas of personal virtue were not ethical abstractions but practical demonstrations by epic heroes.
Perhaps the most compelling proof of the shift toward alpha-thinking is the so-called Copernican revolution, which also involved Kepler and Galileo. The ancient Greek notion of ‘hypothesis’ is that it is an explanation which “saves the appearances,” not in the sense of avoiding embarrassment but because such an explanation would account for the facts at hand acquired by beta-thinking. The Greeks weren’t bothered at all if several hypotheses accomplished this objective, even if they were contrary to each other. Respect for the factual data not theory was paramount.
Thus the idea of a heliocentric universe had been mooted and commonly known as early as the sixth century in a commentary on Aristotle’s treatise on astronomy (De Caelo). The real turning point in science occurred when Kepler and Galileo, and Copernicus “began to think not just that the heliocentric hypothesis saved the appearances but was physically true, in fact an ultimate truth.” This constitutes the real Medieval scientific revolution, not merely a change in paradigm but a fundamental shift in the nature of thought itself. Hence the Church could allow Galileo to continue to teach Copernicanism as an hypothesis that saved the appearances, but not as a truth.
What was feared by the Church in its condemnation of Galileo was a new theory of theory, namely that if some theory saved all the appearances, it was identical with truth. In other words, that if such a theory became a collective representation and used in alpha-thinking, it would be taken for more than an “artificial as if” Such an assertion would quite rightly be considered an idolatrous statement (the Church, of course, failed to comprehend that its great doctrinal edifice was exactly that for the same reason; Barfield misses the point as well, so forgive him his last two chapters).
So, concludes Barfield, “A representation which is collectively mistaken for an ultimate ought not to be considered a representation. It is an idol.” Through this insight we are able to detect what is essentially the evolution of idols from around the point of the Copernican revolution - a succession of claims to the ultimate truth of successive collective representations, all ultimately overthrown and forgotten as false idols. But yet each subsequentLy ‘confirmed’ hypothesis claiming to be true.
This continuous quasi-revolution in thought occurs in part because of the nature of language itself which means something slightly different today than it did yesterday; but also because alpha-thinking is inherently dialectical. It inevitably seeks the flaws in itself through the process of turning personal into collective representations. Indeed, that appears what we mean by inquiry tout court. And yet many scientists, religionists, ideologues as well as many other purely obnoxious people continue to insist that they know the truth. This is not only idolatry, it is hubris of the most intense order. And the insistence on ultimate truth is the best criterion of likely falsity I have ever come across in a lifetime of searching.
Postscript: Barfield’s theory is, as far as I can tell, exactly the same as the semiotic theory put forth by C. S. Peirce a half century earlier. Barfield’s ‘representation’ is functionally equivalent to Peirce’s ‘sign’. And the modes of thought, that is, figuration, alpha and beta-thinking, track Peirce’s First, Second, and Third. Barfield doesn’t mention Peirce so I presume that he knew nothing of his work or the work of other American pragmatists.
davehershey's review against another edition
5.0
This book came highly recommended from a good friend of mine and did not disappoint. Barfield is one of the lesser known inklings, perhaps because he wrote dense books like this one rather than fantasy stories like Lewis and Tolkien! Getting to know Barfield through this work makes me even more want to travel back in time to England and drink a pint with the inklings. If only I had a TARDIS...
But I digress. This book is not long but it is dense. Barfield's argument is that in the ancient world, up to the scientific revolution, people saw the world in a way he describes as "original participation." Basically, the natural world is not sharply divided from the spiritual, instead humans saw the world as living and filled with spirits and gods. In the words of Charles Taylor, this was an enchanted world. But as Taylor says, the modern era took us through a time of disenchantment where we became buffered selves. Barfield describes this as a sharp divide between the natural world and the subject. Emptied of life, the objects in nature were mere objects with nothing standing behind them. They became idols.
I cannot imagine Taylor has not read Barfield, for many arguments in his A Secular Age echo Barfield here. In essence, both offer a huge critique of modernity and naturalism as ultimately empty. For Barfield, the way out is "final participation." This was a tough idea to grasp, but as I understand it this is a recombining of the natural world with our subjective selves. It is a holistic view, ultimately only possible by bringing God into the picture. God allows us to make sense of the world.
Overall, a great read for anyone interested in philosophy and modern thought.
But I digress. This book is not long but it is dense. Barfield's argument is that in the ancient world, up to the scientific revolution, people saw the world in a way he describes as "original participation." Basically, the natural world is not sharply divided from the spiritual, instead humans saw the world as living and filled with spirits and gods. In the words of Charles Taylor, this was an enchanted world. But as Taylor says, the modern era took us through a time of disenchantment where we became buffered selves. Barfield describes this as a sharp divide between the natural world and the subject. Emptied of life, the objects in nature were mere objects with nothing standing behind them. They became idols.
I cannot imagine Taylor has not read Barfield, for many arguments in his A Secular Age echo Barfield here. In essence, both offer a huge critique of modernity and naturalism as ultimately empty. For Barfield, the way out is "final participation." This was a tough idea to grasp, but as I understand it this is a recombining of the natural world with our subjective selves. It is a holistic view, ultimately only possible by bringing God into the picture. God allows us to make sense of the world.
Overall, a great read for anyone interested in philosophy and modern thought.
steveatwaywords's review against another edition
challenging
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
Other reviewers have mentioned my primary concern with Barfield, so I will dispense with it quickly: somehow or other, his generalized misreadings of (and accusations against) Judaism mislead him equally to a conclusion that becomes an argument for a particular form of Christian faith which alone will save us. This alone may deter readers--and I personally and near-sarcastically accuse his friend C. S. Lewis of allowing such sloppiness to stand. But this fairly obvious agenda of Barfield's should not make the rest of his work invalid.
Writing with a healthy dose of linguistics/signification and phenomenological backgrounding--all without citing most thinkers of the previous hundred years on it--Barfield reasons us carefully and creatively through a Western-civilization blind spot which has severed consciousness from objective reality, essentially killing the participatory element of our existence. That earlier mankind viewed the world differently is fairly well-surveyed (the chapters on medieval thought, for instance, were particularly interesting), and one can surmise how our own understanding of arguments and art from pre-1800 (let alone pre-800) may require some reframing. That the world of appearances may not be (Barfield says cannot be) the totality of reality is a solid introduction to phenomenology (and relatively easy to follow for new readers of it).
That this other world demands participation; and that this other world is somehow aware, unified and moral; and that this other world is necessarily the Christ--well, this is quite another matter. I choose to read Barfield's argument in a more generalized and open spirit, however: that this other world demands our intuitive and subjective awareness and meta-awareness; that this world operates in ways we, to our tragic loss, do not engage in making our choices, personal or societal; and that some Christian scripture may offer us analogical or metaphorical clues or parallels to that understanding, no matter what global culture we live.
Writing with a healthy dose of linguistics/signification and phenomenological backgrounding--all without citing most thinkers of the previous hundred years on it--Barfield reasons us carefully and creatively through a Western-civilization blind spot which has severed consciousness from objective reality, essentially killing the participatory element of our existence. That earlier mankind viewed the world differently is fairly well-surveyed (the chapters on medieval thought, for instance, were particularly interesting), and one can surmise how our own understanding of arguments and art from pre-1800 (let alone pre-800) may require some reframing. That the world of appearances may not be (Barfield says cannot be) the totality of reality is a solid introduction to phenomenology (and relatively easy to follow for new readers of it).
That this other world demands participation; and that this other world is somehow aware, unified and moral; and that this other world is necessarily the Christ--well, this is quite another matter. I choose to read Barfield's argument in a more generalized and open spirit, however: that this other world demands our intuitive and subjective awareness and meta-awareness; that this world operates in ways we, to our tragic loss, do not engage in making our choices, personal or societal; and that some Christian scripture may offer us analogical or metaphorical clues or parallels to that understanding, no matter what global culture we live.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Antisemitism
Barfield's misreadings and generalizations about the core of Judaism seem to me particular and problematic flaws in his overall argument; that they come from someone speaking too powerfully for a particular form of Christian faith problematize this further.mattshervheim's review against another edition
2.0
An Inkling echo of The Birth of Tragedy. Both brilliant, both influenced in their own way by German philosophy (Barfield was as devoted a disciple of anthroposophist and occultist Rudolf Steiner as young Nietzsche was of composer Richard Wagner), Barfield follows Nietzsche in expounding the philological "meaning of history" into a realm beyond good and evil, imposing limits on scientific rationalism (the Apollonian) and championing a experiential participation with the world Barfield finally dares to call "paganism" (the Dionysian.)
I think The Birth of Tragedy is a fascinating flawed book, and I would say the same for Saving the Appearances, with two large caveat: that Nietzsche acknowledges there must be limits to the Dionysian, something Barfield leaves unsaid, and that Nietzsche is fun to read.
I think The Birth of Tragedy is a fascinating flawed book, and I would say the same for Saving the Appearances, with two large caveat: that Nietzsche acknowledges there must be limits to the Dionysian, something Barfield leaves unsaid, and that Nietzsche is fun to read.
yourstrulee's review against another edition
4.0
Just reread this after a 12 year gap - one of the books that set my career in media in motion. I had ZERO comprehension of this one the first time around.
skahn's review against another edition
4.0
A lot of people complain that this book is difficult. If breaking idols (habits) of thought were easy, everyone would do it. Of course it is difficult. It is difficult because it's worth reading.
This book is a careful examination of the unfolding of human consciousness. And the movement from original participation, to our modern estrangement, and a movement forward -- by means of imagination -- to a new mode of creative participation with the world. The gods may be dead, but idols are alive and well. This is how we smash idols.
With any familiarity with Rudolf Steiner's work, you will pick up on a familiar melody, but only if you have ears to hear.
This book is a careful examination of the unfolding of human consciousness. And the movement from original participation, to our modern estrangement, and a movement forward -- by means of imagination -- to a new mode of creative participation with the world. The gods may be dead, but idols are alive and well. This is how we smash idols.
With any familiarity with Rudolf Steiner's work, you will pick up on a familiar melody, but only if you have ears to hear.
smarcorodriguez's review against another edition
2.0
You can read my review on my blog:
https://heteroglossolalia.wordpress.com/2014/12/01/review-of-owen-barfields-saving-the-appearances/
https://heteroglossolalia.wordpress.com/2014/12/01/review-of-owen-barfields-saving-the-appearances/
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