There it can be treated in a manner close to Stoicism, as in this monk's reflection: "Since the beginning of our conversation, we have come closer to death. Let us be vigilant while we still have the time." But it changes radically when it is combined with the properly Christian theme of p11rt ici11ni-ion in Christ's death. Leaving aside all of the rich Western litemry t r1ulit iun1 No well illustrated by Mont11igne's chnpter "Thill to philrn111ph i1c i11 to ll•11 1·11 111 die,"
Fonns of Life and Forms of Discourse
69
we can go straight to Heidegger in order to rediscover this fundamental philosophical exercise in his definition of the authenticity of existence as a lucid anticipation of death.
Linked to the meditation upon death, the theme of the value of the present instant plays a fundamental role in all the philosophical schools. In short it is a consciousness of inner freedom. It can be summarized in a formula of this kind: you need only yourself in order immediately to find inner peace by ceasing to worry about the past and the future. You can be happy right now, or you will never be happy. Stoicism will insist on the effort needed to pay attention to oneself, the joyous acceptance of the present moment imposed on us by fate. The Epicurean will conceive of this liberation from cares about the past and the future as a relaxation, a pure joy of existing: "While we are speaking, jealous time has flown; seize today without placing your trust in tomorrow." This is Horace's famous laetus in praesens, this "enjoyment of the pure present," to use Andre Chastel's fine expression about Marsilio Fidno, who had taken this very formula of Horace's for his motto. Here again the history of this theme in Western thought is fascinating. I cannot resist the pleasure of evoking the dialogue between Faust and Helena, the climax of part two of Goethe's Faust: "Nun schaut der Geist nicht vorwarts, nicht zurilck, I Die Gegenwart allein ist unser Gluck" ["And so the spirit looks neither ahead nor behind. The present alone is our joy . . . Do not think about your destiny.
Being here is a duty, even though it only be an instant"].
I have come to the end of this inaugural address, which means that I have just completed what in antiquity was called an epideixis, a set speech. It is in a direct line with those that professors in the time of Libanius, for example, had to give in order to recruit an audience while at the same time trying to demonstrate the incomparable worth of their speciality and to display their eloquence. It would be interesting to investigate the historic paths by which this ancient practice was transmitted to the first professors at the College de France. In any case, at this very moment, we are in the process of fully living a Greco-Roman tradition. Philo of Alexandria said of these sei: speeches that the lecturer "brought into broad daylight the fruit of long efforts pursued in private, as painters and sculptors seek, in realizing their works, the applause of the public." And he opposed this behavior to the true philosophical instruction in which the teacher adapts his speech to the state of his listeners and brings them the cures they need in order to be healed.
The concern with individual destiny and spiritual progress, the intransigent assertion of moral requirements, the call for meditation, the invitation to seek this inner peace that all the schools, even those of the skeptics, propose Rs the aim of philosophy, the feeling for the seriousness and grandeur of existence
this seems to me to be what has never been surpassed in 1mdcn1 philmmphy and whnt always remains alive. Perhaps some people will Kt�t· in lht�Kt' 11 1 1 i l udcs 11 11 csc11 pc or evm;ion th1tt is incom patible with the
70
Method
consciousness we should have of human suffering and misery, and they will think that the philosopher thereby shows himself to be irremediably foreign to the world. I would answer simply by quoting this beautiful text by Georges Friedmann, from 1 942, which offers a glimpse of the possibility of reconciling the concern for justice and spiritual effort; it could have been written by a Stoic of antiquity:
Take flight each day! At least for a moment, however brief, as long as it is intense. Every day a "spiritual exercise," alone or in the company of a man who also wishes to better himself . . . . Leave ordinary time behind. Make an effort to rid yourself of your own passions . . . . Become eternal by surpassing yourself. This inner effort is necessary, this ambition, just. Many are those who are entirely absorbed in militant politics, in the preparation for the social revolution. Rare, very rare, are those who, in order to prepare for the revolution, wish to become worthy of it.1
NOTES
Delivered as the inaugural lecture to the chair of the History of Hellenistic and Roman Thought, College de France, 1 8 February 1 983. © 1 983 by The College de France, Trans. Arnold I. Davidson and Paula Wissing. First published in English in Critical Inquiry 1 6 (spring 1 990)
I Petrus Ramus, Regii Eloquentiae Philosophiaeque Proftssoris, Oratio lnitio Suae Profassionis Habita, Paris 1 55 1 . Sec Walter J. Ong, Rum11s and Talon Inventory: A Short- Title Inventory of the Published Works of Peter R11mus (IS/5-1572) and of Omer Talon (ca. 1510-1562) in Their Original and in Their Variously Altered Fonns, Cambridge MA 1958, p. 1 58.
2 See Pierre Hadot and Claude Rapin, "Les Textes littcraires grecs de la Tresorerie d'AI Khanoun," pt. I , Etudes, Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique 1 1 1 ( 1 987): 225-3 Georges Friedmann, la Puissance de la sagme, Paris 1 970, p. 359.
2
Philosophy, Exegesis, and Creative
Mistakes
Everyone is familiar with Whitehead's remark: "Western philosophy is nothing but a series of footnotes to Plato's dialogues." This statement could be interpreted in two ways: we could take it to mean that Plato's problematics have made a definitive mark upon Western philosophy, and this would be true. Alternatively, it could be taken to mean that, in a concrete sense, Western philosophy has assumed the form of commentaries - be they on Plato or on other philosophers - and that, more generally speaking, it has taken the form of exegesis. This, too, is to a very large extent true. It is important to realize that, for almost two thousand years - from the mid-fourth century BC
to the end of the sixteenth century AD - philosophy was conceived of, above all, as the exegesis of a small number of texts deriving from "authorities,"
chief among whom were Plato and Aristotle. We are, moreover, justified in asking ourselves if, even after the Cartesian revolution, philosophy does not still bear traces of its lengthy past, and if, even today, at least to a certain extent, it has not remained exegesis.