An Animated Introduction to Stoicism, the Ancient Greek Philosophy That Lets You Lead a Happy, Fulfilling Life

For­ev­er known, it seems, as keep­ing a “stiff upper lip,” Sto­icism—like its pre­de­ces­sor, Cyn­i­cism—is an ancient school of Greek phi­los­o­phy that has been reduced into an atti­tude, a pose rather than a way of life. “We do this to our philoso­phies,” writes Lary Wal­lace at Aeon, “We redraft their con­tours based on pro­ject­ed shad­ows, or give them a car­toon­ish shape like a car­i­ca­tur­ist empha­siz­ing all the wrong fea­tures.” We do this espe­cial­ly to schools as obscure to most peo­ple as Sto­icism and Cyn­i­cism.

“In real­i­ty,” how­ev­er, writes Mas­si­mo Pigli­uc­ci at The Stone, “prac­tic­ing Sto­icism is not real­ly that dif­fer­ent from, say, prac­tic­ing Bud­dhism (or even cer­tain forms of mod­ern Chris­tian­i­ty): it is a mix of reflect­ing on the­o­ret­i­cal pre­cepts, read­ing inspi­ra­tional texts, and engag­ing in med­i­ta­tion, mind­ful­ness, and the like.” Would the ancient Sto­ics have agreed with this assess­ment? In the short TED-Ed les­son above, writ­ten by Pigli­uc­ci and ani­mat­ed by Com­pote Col­lec­tive, we learn about Zeno of Cyprus, “strand­ed miles from home, with no mon­ey or pos­ses­sions.”

Des­ti­tute and “ship­wrecked in Athens around 300 BCE,” the once-wealthy mer­chant dis­cov­ered Socrates, and decid­ed to “seek out and study with the city’s not­ed philoso­phers.” Zeno then taught his own stu­dents the prin­ci­ples of “virtue, tol­er­ance, and self-con­trol” that under­lie Sto­ic phi­los­o­phy (called so for “the porch (stoa poik­ilê) in the Ago­ra at Athens” where the group con­gre­gat­ed). Although the abil­i­ty to remain calm and com­posed in a crisis—the qual­i­ty most asso­ci­at­ed with Stoicism—occupies a promi­nent place in Sto­ic thought, it is cen­tral­ly con­cerned with two ques­tions.

As the site 99u puts it, Sto­ics ask: “1. How can we lead a ful­fill­ing, hap­py life?” and “2. How can we become bet­ter human beings?” In brief, we do so not by obey­ing or sub­mit­ting to some kind of capri­cious divine will, but by attend­ing to the ratio­nal struc­ture of the uni­verse, the Logos, an intri­cate web of cause and effect that deter­mines the world as it is, not as we would like it to be. The Sto­ic cul­ti­vates four virtues—Wisdom, Tem­per­ance, Jus­tice, and Courage—and the char­ac­ter rec­om­mend­ed by Sto­ic phi­los­o­phy makes it plain why Star Trek’s Mr. Spock, as Pigli­uc­ci notes, was “actu­al­ly mod­eled after [Gene Roddenberry’s]—mistaken—understanding of Sto­icism.”

Giv­en Stoicism’s con­cern with hap­pi­ness and virtue, we might expect Alain de Botton’s School of Life to be an advo­cate, and we would be right. In the ani­mat­ed intro­duc­tion to Sto­icism above, de Bot­ton assures view­ers “you need more of it in your life.” Why? Because “life is dif­fi­cult,” and Sto­icism is “help­ful,” for com­mon­ers and aris­to­crats alike. Indeed the most famous of Sto­ic philoso­phers, Mar­cus Aure­lius, was Emper­or of Rome from 161 to 180 CE. Con­sid­ered one of the great­est works of ancient thought, Aure­lius’ Med­i­ta­tions is also per­haps one of the most acces­si­ble of philo­soph­i­cal texts.

In plain, straight­for­ward lan­guage, the emper­or-philoso­pher rec­om­mends a series of Gre­co-Roman virtues, and gives cred­it to his many teach­ers. In book two, he writes, “Why should any of these things that hap­pen exter­nal­ly, so much dis­tract thee? Give thy­self leisure to learn some good thing, and cease rov­ing and wan­der­ing to and fro. Thou must also take heed of anoth­er kind of wan­der­ing, for they are idle in their actions, who toil and labour in this life, and have no cer­tain scope to which to direct all their motions, and desires.” In oth­er words, rather than suf­fer­ing in coura­geous silence—the car­i­ca­ture of Stoicism—Aurelius dis­tills much of its essence to this: “Don’t wor­ry about what you can’t con­trol, find good work to do, and do it well and wise­ly.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

Alain de Botton’s School of Life Presents Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tions to Hei­deg­ger, The Sto­ics & Epi­cu­rus

A Guide to Hap­pi­ness: Alain de Bot­ton Shows How Six Great Philoso­phers Can Change Your Life

Free Cours­es in Ancient His­to­ry, Lit­er­a­ture & Phi­los­o­phy 

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

The CIA Assesses the Power of French Post-Modern Philosophers: Read a Newly Declassified CIA Report from 1985

We might assume that phi­los­o­phy is an ivory tow­er dis­ci­pline that has lit­tle effect on the unlove­ly oper­a­tions of gov­ern­ment, dri­ven as they are by the con­cerns of mid­dle class wal­lets, upper class stock port­fo­lios, and the ever-present prob­lem of pover­ty. But we would be wrong. In times when pres­i­dents, cab­i­net mem­bers, or sen­a­tors have been thought­ful and well-read, the ideas of thinkers like Fran­cis Fukuya­ma, Leo Strauss, Jur­gen Haber­mas, and John Rawls—a favorite of the pre­vi­ous pres­i­dent—have exer­cised con­sid­er­able sway. Few philoso­phers have been as his­tor­i­cal­ly influ­en­tial as the Ger­man thinker Carl Schmitt, though in a thor­ough­ly destruc­tive way. Then there’s John Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Thomas Hobbes, Aris­to­tle… even Socrates, who made him­self a thorn in the side of the pow­er­ful.

But when it comes to the most­ly French school of thinkers we asso­ciate with postmodernism—Michel Fou­cault, Roland Barthes, the Jacques Lacan and Der­ri­da, and many others—such influ­ence is far less direct. The work of these writ­ers has been often dis­missed as friv­o­lous and incon­se­quen­tial, speak­ing a lan­guage no one under­stands to out of touch coastal elites on the left edge of the spec­trum. Per­haps this is so in the Unit­ed States, where pow­er is often the­o­rized but rarely rad­i­cal­ly cri­tiqued in main­stream pub­li­ca­tions. But it has not been so in France. At least not accord­ing to the CIA, who close­ly mon­i­tored the effects of French phi­los­o­phy on the coun­try’s domes­tic and for­eign pol­i­cy dur­ing their long-run­ning cul­ture war against Com­mu­nism and “anti-Amer­i­can­ism,” and who, in 1985, com­piled a research paper to doc­u­ment their inves­ti­ga­tions. (See a sam­ple page above.)

Recent­ly made avail­able to the pub­lic in a “san­i­tized copy” through a Free­dom of Infor­ma­tion Act request, the doc­u­ment, titled “France: Defec­tion of the Left­ist Intel­lec­tu­als,” shows itself sur­pris­ing­ly approv­ing of the polit­i­cal direc­tion post-struc­tural­ist thinkers had tak­en. ga**************@vi*******.edu&xsl=bio_long”>Villanova Uni­ver­si­ty pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy and author of Rad­i­cal His­to­ry and the Pol­i­tics of Art Gabriel Rock­hill sum­ma­rizes the tenor of the agency’s assess­ment in the L.A. Review of Books’ Philo­soph­i­cal Salon:

…the under­cov­er cul­tur­al war­riors applaud what they see as a dou­ble move­ment that has con­tributed to the intel­li­gentsia shift­ing its crit­i­cal focus away from the US and toward the USSR. On the left, there was a grad­ual intel­lec­tu­al dis­af­fec­tion with Stal­in­ism and Marx­ism, a pro­gres­sive with­draw­al of rad­i­cal intel­lec­tu­als from pub­lic debate, and a the­o­ret­i­cal move away from social­ism and the social­ist par­ty. Fur­ther to the right, the ide­o­log­i­cal oppor­tunists referred to as the New Philoso­phers and the New Right intel­lec­tu­als launched a high-pro­file media smear cam­paign against Marx­ism.

The “spir­it of anti-Marx­ism and anti-Sovi­etism,” write the agents in their report, “will make it dif­fi­cult for any­one to mobi­lize sig­nif­i­cant intel­lec­tu­al oppo­si­tion to US poli­cies.” The influ­ence of “New Left intel­lec­tu­als” over French cul­ture and gov­ern­ment was such, they sur­mised, that “Pres­i­dent [Fran­cois] Mitterrand’s notable cool­ness toward Moscow derives, at least in part, from this per­va­sive atti­tude.”

These obser­va­tions stand in con­trast to the pre­vi­ous gen­er­a­tion of “left-lean­ing intel­lec­tu­als of the imme­di­ate post­war peri­od,” writes Rock­hill, who “had been open­ly crit­i­cal of US impe­ri­al­ism” and active­ly worked against the machi­na­tions of Amer­i­can oper­a­tives. Jean-Paul Sartre even played a role in “blow­ing the cov­er of the CIA sta­tion offi­cer in Paris and dozens of under­cov­er oper­a­tives,” and as a result was “close­ly mon­i­tored by the Agency and con­sid­ered a very seri­ous prob­lem.” By the mid-eight­ies, the Agency stat­ed, tri­umphant­ly, “there are no more Sartres, no more Gides.” The “last clique of Com­mu­nist savants,” they write, “came under fire from their for­mer pro­teges, but none had any stom­ach for fight­ing a rear­guard defense of Marx­ism.” As such, the late Cold War peri­od saw a “broad­er retreat from ide­ol­o­gy among intel­lec­tu­als of all polit­i­cal col­ors.”

A cer­tain weari­ness had tak­en hold, brought about by the inde­fen­si­ble total­i­tar­i­an abus­es of the “cult of Stal­in­ism” and the seem­ing inescapa­bil­i­ty of the Wash­ing­ton Con­sen­sus and the multi­na­tion­al cor­po­ratism engen­dered by it. By the time of Communism’s col­lapse, U.S. philoso­phers waxed apoc­a­lyp­tic, even as they cel­e­brat­ed the tri­umph of what Fran­cis Fukuya­ma called “lib­er­al democ­ra­cy” over social­ism. Fukuyama’s book The End of His­to­ry and the Last Man made its star­tling the­sis plain in the title. There would be no more rev­o­lu­tions. Har­vard thinker Samuel Hunt­ing­ton declared it the era of “endism,” amidst a rash of hyper­bol­ic argu­ments about “the end of art,” the “end of nature,” and so on. And, in France, in the years just pri­or to the fall of the Berlin wall, the pre­vi­ous­ly vig­or­ous philo­soph­i­cal left, the CIA believed, had “suc­cumbed to a kind of list­less­ness.”

While the agency cred­it­ed the dif­fi­dence of post-struc­tural­ist philoso­phers with sway­ing pop­u­lar opin­ion away from social­ism and “hard­en­ing pub­lic atti­tudes toward Marx­ism and the Sovi­et Union,” it also wrote that “their influ­ence appears to be wan­ing, and they are unlike­ly to have much direct impact on polit­i­cal affairs any time soon.” Is this true? If we take seri­ous­ly crit­ics of so-called “Iden­ti­ty Pol­i­tics,” the answer is a resound­ing No. As those who close­ly iden­ti­fy post­mod­ern phi­los­o­phy with sev­er­al recent waves of left­ist thought and activism might argue, the CIA was short­sight­ed in its con­clu­sions. Per­haps, bound to a Manichean view fos­tered by decades of Cold War maneu­ver­ing, they could not con­ceive of a pol­i­tics that opposed both Amer­i­can and Sovi­et empire at once.

And yet, the retreat from ide­ol­o­gy was hard­ly a retreat from pol­i­tics. We might say, over thir­ty years since this curi­ous research essay cir­cu­lat­ed among intel­li­gence gath­er­ers, that con­cepts like Foucault’s biopow­er or Derrida’s skep­ti­cal inter­ro­ga­tions of iden­ti­ty have more cur­ren­cy and rel­e­vance than ever, even if we don’t always under­stand, or read, their work. But while the agency may not have fore­seen the per­va­sive impact of post­mod­ern thought, they nev­er dis­missed it as obscu­ran­tist or incon­se­quen­tial sophistry. Their new­ly-released report, writes Rock­hill, “should be a cogent reminder that if some pre­sume that intel­lec­tu­als are pow­er­less, and that our polit­i­cal ori­en­ta­tions do not mat­ter, the orga­ni­za­tion that has been one of the most potent pow­er bro­kers in con­tem­po­rary world pol­i­tics does not agree.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

12 Mil­lion Declas­si­fied CIA Doc­u­ments Now Free Online: Secret Tun­nels, UFOs, Psy­chic Exper­i­ments & More

How the CIA Secret­ly Fund­ed Abstract Expres­sion­ism Dur­ing the Cold War

Michel Fou­cault: Free Lec­tures on Truth, Dis­course & The Self (UC Berke­ley, 1980–1983)

Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Yale Course

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Evelyn Glennie (a Musician Who Happens to Be Deaf) Shows How We Can Listen to Music with Our Entire Bodies

Com­pos­er and per­cus­sion­ist Dame Eve­lyn Glen­nie, above, feels music pro­found­ly. For her, there is no ques­tion that lis­ten­ing should be a whole body expe­ri­ence:

Hear­ing is basi­cal­ly a spe­cial­ized form of touch. Sound is sim­ply vibrat­ing air which the ear picks up and con­verts to elec­tri­cal sig­nals, which are then inter­pret­ed by the brain. The sense of hear­ing is not the only sense that can do this, touch can do this too. If you are stand­ing by the road and a large truck goes by, do you hear or feel the vibra­tion? The answer is both. With very low fre­quen­cy vibra­tion the ear starts becom­ing inef­fi­cient and the rest of the body’s sense of touch starts to take over. For some rea­son we tend to make a dis­tinc­tion between hear­ing a sound and feel­ing a vibra­tion, in real­i­ty they are the same thing. It is inter­est­ing to note that in the Ital­ian lan­guage this dis­tinc­tion does not exist. The verb ‘sen­tire’ means to hear and the same verb in the reflex­ive form ‘sen­tir­si’ means to feel.

It’s a phi­los­o­phy born of necessity—her hear­ing began to dete­ri­o­rate when she was 8, and by the age of 12, she was pro­found­ly deaf. Music lessons at that time includ­ed touch­ing the wall of the prac­tice room to feel the vibra­tions as her teacher played.

While she acknowl­edges that her dis­abil­i­ty is a pub­lic­i­ty hook, it’s not her pre­ferred lede, a conun­drum she explores in her “Hear­ing Essay.” Rather than be cel­e­brat­ed as a deaf musi­cian, she’d like to be known as the musi­cian who is teach­ing the world to lis­ten.

In her TED Talk, How To Tru­ly Lis­ten, she dif­fer­en­ti­ates between the abil­i­ty to trans­late nota­tions on a musi­cal score and the sub­tler, more soul­ful skill of inter­pre­ta­tion. This involves con­nect­ing to the instru­ment with every part of her phys­i­cal being. Oth­ers may lis­ten with ears alone. Dame Eve­lyn encour­ages every­one to lis­ten with fin­gers, arms, stom­ach, heart, cheek­bones… a phe­nom­e­non many teenagers expe­ri­ence organ­i­cal­ly, no mat­ter what their ear­buds are plug­ging.

And while the vibra­tions may be sub­tler, her phi­los­o­phy could cause us to lis­ten more atten­tive­ly to both our loved ones and our adver­saries, by stay­ing attuned to visu­al and emo­tion­al pitch­es, as well as slight vari­a­tions in vol­ume and tone.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Did Beethoven Com­pose His 9th Sym­pho­ny After He Went Com­plete­ly Deaf?

Hear a 20 Hour Playlist Fea­tur­ing Record­ings by Elec­tron­ic Music Pio­neer Pauline Oliv­eros (RIP)

How Inge­nious Sign Lan­guage Inter­preters Are Bring­ing Music to Life for the Deaf: Visu­al­iz­ing the Sound of Rhythm, Har­mo­ny & Melody

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  She’ll is appear­ing onstage in New York City this June as one of the clowns in Paul David Young’s Faust 3. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Take Free Philosophy Courses from The Institute of Art and Ideas: From “The Meaning of Life” to “Heidegger Meets Van Gogh”

Back in 2014, we told you about how The Insti­tute of Art and Ideas (IAI) launched IAI Acad­e­my — an online edu­ca­tion­al plat­form that fea­tures free cours­es from world-lead­ing schol­ars “on the ideas that mat­ter.” They have since put online a num­ber of phi­los­o­phy cours­es, many striv­ing to address ques­tions that affect our lives today. We’ve list­ed a num­ber of them below, and added them to our list of 150+ Free Online Phi­los­o­phy cours­es. For a com­plete list of IAI Acad­e­my cours­es, vis­it this page.

  • Hei­deg­ger Meets Van Gogh: Art, Free­dom and Tech­nol­o­gyWeb video — Simon Glendin­ning, Lon­don School of Eco­nom­ics
  • Dark Mat­ter of the MindWeb video — Daniel Everett, Bent­ley Uni­ver­si­ty
  • Fear and Trem­bling in the 21st Cen­tu­ryWeb video — Clare Carlisle, King’s Col­lege Lon­don
  • Knowl­edge and Ratio­nal­i­tyWeb Video — Corine Besson, Uni­ver­si­ty of Sus­sex
  • Life, Mean­ing and Moral­i­tyWeb video — Christo­pher Hamil­ton, King’s Col­lege, Lon­don
  • Minds, Moral­i­ty and AgencyWeb video — Mark Row­lands, Uni­ver­si­ty of Mia­mi
  • On Roman­tic LoveWeb video — Berit Bro­gaard, Uni­ver­si­ty of Mia­mi
  • The Human Com­passWeb video — Janne Teller
  • The Mean­ing of LifeWeb video — Steve Fuller, Uni­ver­si­ty of War­wick
  • The Uni­verse As We Find ItWeb video — John Heil, Wash­ing­ton Uni­ver­si­ty in St Louis
  • Unveil­ing Real­i­tyWeb video — Bryan Roberts, Lon­don School of Eco­nom­ics
  • Why the World Does Not ExistWeb video — Markus Gabriel, Freiburg Insti­tute of Advanced Study.

Note: The cours­es are all free. How­ev­er, to take a course you will need to cre­ate a user account.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Take First-Class Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es Any­where with Free Oxford Pod­casts

The Great War and Mod­ern Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Online Course

Søren Kierkegaard: A Free Online Course on the “Father of Exis­ten­tial­ism”

Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Yale Course

1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

A Short, Animated Introduction to Emil Cioran, the “Philosopher of Despair”

It is admit­ted­ly a gross over­sim­pli­fi­ca­tion, but if asked to sum­ma­rize a crit­i­cal dif­fer­ence between ana­lyt­i­cal Anglo-Amer­i­can philoso­phers and so-called “Con­ti­nen­tals,” one might broad­ly say that the for­mer approach phi­los­o­phy as think­ing, the lat­ter as writ­ing. Con­trast, for exam­ple, John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, and Bertrand Russell—none of whom are espe­cial­ly known as prose stylists—with Michel de Mon­taigne, Kierkegaard, Niet­zsche, or Albert Camus. While the Eng­lish­men struck out into heady intel­lec­tu­al waters indeed, the Euro­peans brought the full weight of their per­son­al­i­ties to bear on their inves­ti­ga­tions. They invent­ed per­son­ae, wrote lit­er­ary apho­risms, and often wrote fic­tion, dra­ma, and dia­logue in addi­tion to phi­los­o­phy.

Sure­ly there are many excep­tions to this scheme, but on the whole, Con­ti­nen­tal thinkers have been loos­er with the laws of log­ic and more inti­mate with the rules of rhetoric, as well as with their own emo­tion­al lives. But per­haps one of the great­est exam­ples of such a philo­soph­i­cal writer is some­one most of us have nev­er heard of. After watch­ing this short School of Life video intro­duc­tion on Roman­ian-French philoso­pher Emil Cio­ran, we may be per­suad­ed to get to know his work. Cio­ran, says Alain de Bot­ton above, “is very much wor­thy of inclu­sion in the line of the great­est French and Euro­pean moral philoso­phers and writ­ers of max­ims stretch­ing back to Mon­taigne, Cham­fort, Pas­cal, and La Rochefou­cauld.”

Cos­ti­ca Bra­datan describes Cio­ran as a “20th-cen­tu­ry Niet­zsche, only dark­er and with a bet­ter sense of humor.” Called a “philoso­pher of despair” by the New York Times upon his death in 1995, Cioran’s “hair-shirt­ed world view res­onat­ed in the titles” of books like On the Heights of Despair, Syl­lo­gisms of Bit­ter­ness, and The Trou­ble with Being Born. Though his deeply pes­simistic out­look was con­sis­tent through­out his career, he was not a sys­tem­at­ic thinker. “Cio­ran often con­tra­dicts him­self,” writes Bra­datan, “but that’s the least of his wor­ries. With him, self-con­tra­dic­tion is not even a weak­ness, but the sign a mind is alive.”

Like Niet­zsche, Cio­ran pos­sessed a “brood­ing, roman­tic, fatal­is­tic tem­pera­ment” com­bined with an obses­sion with reli­gious themes, inher­it­ed from his father, a Greek Ortho­dox priest. The two also share a pen­chant for pithy apho­risms both shock­ing and dark­ly fun­ny in their bru­tal can­dor. De Bot­ton quotes one exam­ple: “It is not worth the both­er of killing your­self, since you always kill your­self too late.” For Cio­ran, Bra­datan remarks, writ­ing phi­los­o­phy was “not about being con­sis­tent, nor about per­sua­sion or keep­ing a read­er­ship enter­tained.” It was a per­son­al act of sur­vival. “You write not to pro­duce some body of text, but to act upon your­self; to bring your­self togeth­er after a per­son­al dis­as­ter or to pull your­self out of a bad depres­sion.”

Cio­ran put it this way: “Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would nev­er dare con­fide to any­one.” In his the­mat­ic obses­sions, lit­er­ary ele­gance, and per­son­al invest­ment in his work, Cio­ran resem­bles a num­ber of writ­ers we admire because phi­los­o­phy for them was not a mat­ter of ratio­nal abstrac­tion; it was an active engage­ment with the most per­son­al, yet uni­ver­sal, ques­tions of life and death.

Relat­ed Con­tent:  

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Arthur Schopen­hauer and How We Can Achieve Hap­pi­ness Through Art & Phi­los­o­phy

An Ani­mat­ed, Mon­ty Python-Style Intro­duc­tion to the Søren Kierkegaard, the First Exis­ten­tial­ist

Niet­zsche, Wittgen­stein & Sartre Explained with Mon­ty Python-Style Ani­ma­tions by The School of Life

How Did Niet­zsche Become the Most Mis­un­der­stood & Bas­tardized Philoso­pher?: A Video from Slate Explains

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Slavoj Žižek Names His 5 Favorite Films

Any­one who has read the prose of philoso­pher-provo­ca­teur Slavoj Žižek, a potent mix­ture of the aca­d­e­m­ic and the psy­che­del­ic, has to won­der what mate­r­i­al has influ­enced his way of think­ing. Those who have seen his film-ana­lyz­ing doc­u­men­taries The Per­vert’s Guide to Cin­e­ma and The Per­vert’s Guide to Ide­ol­o­gy might come to sus­pect that he’s watched even more than he’s read, and the inter­view clip above gives us a sense of which movies have done the most to shape his inter­nal uni­verse. Asked to name his five favorite films, he impro­vis­es the fol­low­ing list:

  • Melan­cho­lia (Lars von Tri­er), “because it’s the end of the world, and I’m a pes­simist. I think it’s good if the world ends”
  • The Foun­tain­head (King Vidor, 1949), “ultra­cap­i­tal­ist pro­pa­gan­da, but it’s so ridicu­lous that I can­not but love it”
  • A Man with a Movie Cam­era (Dzi­ga Ver­tov, 1929), “stan­dard but I like it.” It’s free to watch online.
  • Psy­cho (Alfred Hitch­cock, 1960), because “Ver­ti­go is still too roman­tic” and “after Psy­cho, every­thing goes down”
  • To Be or Not to Be (Ernst Lubitsch, 1942), “mad­ness, you can­not do a bet­ter com­e­dy”

You can watch a part of Žižek’s break­down of Psy­cho, which he describes as “the per­fect film for me,” in the Per­vert’s Guide to Cin­e­ma clip just above. He views the house of Nor­man Bates, the tit­u­lar psy­cho, as a repro­duc­tion of “the three lev­els of human sub­jec­tiv­i­ty. The ground floor is ego: Nor­man behaves there as a nor­mal son, what­ev­er remains of his nor­mal ego tak­ing over. Up there it’s the super­ego — mater­nal super­ego, because the dead moth­er is basi­cal­ly a fig­ure of super­ego. Down in the cel­lar, it’s the id, the reser­voir of these illic­it dri­ves.” Ulti­mate­ly, “it’s as if he is trans­pos­ing her in his own mind as a psy­chic agency from super­ego to id.” But giv­en that Žižek’s inter­pre­tive pow­ers extend to the her­menu­tics of toi­lets and well beyond, he could prob­a­bly see just about any­thing as a Freudi­an night­mare.

You can watch anoth­er of Žižek’s five favorite films, Dzi­ga Ver­tov’s A Man with a Movie Cam­era, which we fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture a few years ago, just above. Whether or not you can tune into the right intel­lec­tu­al wave­length to enjoy Žižek’s own work, the man can cer­tain­ly put togeth­er a stim­u­lat­ing view­ing list.

For more of his rec­om­men­da­tions — and his dis­tinc­tive jus­ti­fi­ca­tions for those rec­om­men­da­tions — have a look at his picks from the Cri­te­ri­on Col­lec­tion and his expla­na­tion of the great­ness of Andrei Tarkovsky. If uni­ver­si­ty super­star­dom one day stops work­ing out for him, he may well have a bright future as a revival-the­ater pro­gram­mer.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Slavoj Žižek Names His Favorite Films from The Cri­te­ri­on Col­lec­tion

Slavoj Žižek Explains the Artistry of Andrei Tarkovsky’s Films: Solaris, Stalk­er & More

In His Lat­est Film, Slavoj Žižek Claims “The Only Way to Be an Athe­ist is Through Chris­tian­i­ty”

Free: Dzi­ga Vertov’s A Man with a Movie Cam­era, the 8th Best Film Ever Made

Alfred Hitchcock’s Rules for Watch­ing Psy­cho (1960)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

An Animated Alan Watts Waxes Philosophical About Time in The Fine Art of Goofing Off, the 1970s “Sesame Street for Grown-Ups”

Time is a mea­sure of ener­gy, a mea­sure of motion. And we have agreed inter­na­tion­al­ly on the speed of the clock. And I want you to think about clocks and watch­es for a moment. We are of course slaves to them. And you will notice that your watch is a cir­cle, and that it is cal­i­brat­ed, and that each minute, or sec­ond, is marked by a hair­line which is made as nar­row as pos­si­ble, as yet to be con­sis­tent with being vis­i­ble. 

Alan Watts

How­ev­er true, that’s a par­tic­u­lar­ly stress-induc­ing obser­va­tion from one who was known for his Zen teach­ings…

The pres­sure is ame­lio­rat­ed some­what by Bob McClay’s trip­py time-based ani­ma­tion, above, nar­rat­ed by Watts. Putting Mick­ey Mouse on the face of Big Ben must’ve gone over well with the coun­ter­cul­tur­al youth who eager­ly embraced Watts’ East­ern phi­los­o­phy. And the tan­gi­ble evi­dence of real live mag­ic mark­ers will prove a ton­ic to those who came of age before ani­ma­tion’s dig­i­tal rev­o­lu­tion.

The short orig­i­nal­ly aired as part of the ear­ly 70’s series, The Fine Art of Goof­ing Off, described by one of its cre­ators, the humorist and sound artist, Hen­ry Jacobs, as “Sesame Street for grown-ups.”

Time pre­oc­cu­pied both men.

One of Jacobs’ fake com­mer­cials on The Fine Art of Goof­ing Off involved a pitch­man exhort­ing view­ers to stop wast­ing time at idle pas­times: Log a few extra gold­en hours at the old grind­stone.

A koan-like skit fea­tured a gramo­phone through which a dis­em­bod­ied voice end­less­ly asks a stuffed dog, “Can you hear me?” (Jacobs named that as a per­son­al favorite.)

Watts was less punch­line-ori­ent­ed than his friend and even­tu­al in-law, who main­tained an archival col­lec­tion of Watts’ lec­tures until his own death:

And when we think of a moment of time, when we think what we mean by the word “now”; we think of the short­est pos­si­ble instant that is here and gone, because that cor­re­sponds with the hair­line on the watch. And as a result of this fab­u­lous idea, we are a peo­ple who feel that we don’t have any present, because the present is instant­ly van­ish­ing — it goes so quick­ly. It is always becom­ing past. And we have the sen­sa­tion, there­fore, of our lives as some­thing that is con­stant­ly flow­ing away from us. We are con­stant­ly los­ing time. And so we have a sense of urgency. Time is not to be wast­ed. Time is mon­ey. And so, because of the tyran­ny of this thing, we feel that we have a past, and we know who we are in terms of our past. Nobody can ever tell you who they are, they can only tell you who they were. 

Watch a com­plete episode of The Fine Art of Goof­ing Off here. Your time will be well spent.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Wis­dom of Alan Watts in Four Thought-Pro­vok­ing Ani­ma­tions

Take a Break from Your Fran­tic Day & Let Alan Watts Intro­duce You to the Calm­ing Ways of Zen

Hear Alan Watts’s 1960s Pre­dic­tion That Automa­tion Will Neces­si­tate a Uni­ver­sal Basic Income

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Love Letters of Hannah Arendt and Martin Heidegger

The noto­ri­ous four-year affair between Han­nah Arendt and Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger has occa­sioned many a bit­ter aca­d­e­m­ic debate, for rea­sons with which you may already be famil­iar. If not, Alan Ryan sums it up suc­cinct­ly in a 1996 New York Review of Books essay:

She was a Jew who fled Ger­many in August 1933, a few months after Hitler’s assump­tion of pow­er. He was elect­ed Rec­tor of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Freiburg in the spring of 1933, and in a noto­ri­ous inau­gur­al address hailed the pres­ence of the brown-shirt­ed storm-troop­ers in his audi­ence, claimed that Hitler would restore the Ger­man peo­ple to spir­i­tu­al health, and end­ed by giv­ing the famil­iar stiff-armed Nazi salute to cries of “Sieg Heil.” The thought that these two were ever soul­mates is hard to swal­low.

Arendt went on to write The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism and Eich­mann in Jerusalem, in which she used the phrase “banal­i­ty of evil” for the Nazi func­tionary on tri­al at Nurem­berg. Hei­deg­ger refused to dis­cuss his col­lab­o­ra­tion pub­licly and “remained silent about the exter­mi­na­tion of the Jews, about the ter­ror­ism of Hitler’s regime.” But as we’ve learned from his recent­ly pub­lished jour­nals, the so-called Black Note­books, he was pri­vate­ly a “con­vinced Nazi,” as Peter Gor­don observes, who “did not awak­en from his philo­soph­i­cal-polit­i­cal fan­tasies. They only grew more extreme.”

But indeed, Arendt and Hei­deg­ger were in love, dur­ing an affair that began when she was an 18-year-old stu­dent and he her mar­ried 36-year-old pro­fes­sor. Their let­ters show an illic­it rela­tion­ship devel­op­ing from cau­tion to infat­u­a­tion. Hei­deg­ger waxed roman­ti­cal­ly philo­soph­i­cal:

.…we become what we love and yet remain our­selves. Then we want to thank the beloved, but find noth­ing that suf­fices.

We can only thank with our selves. Love trans­forms grat­i­tude into loy­al­ty to our selves and uncon­di­tion­al faith in the oth­er. That is how love steadi­ly inten­si­fies its inner­most secret.

But both of them knew the rela­tion­ship could not last, and Hei­deg­ger sug­gest­ed that mov­ing on from him would be in her best inter­est as a young schol­ar. In 1929, Arendt met and became engaged to a Ger­man jour­nal­ist and class­mate in Heidegger’s sem­i­nar. She sent her pro­fes­sor a note on her wed­ding day which begins, “Do not for­get me, and do not for­get how much and how deeply I know that our love has become the bless­ing of my life.”

Before his Nazi appoint­ment, Arendt wrote to her for­mer lover and men­tor in 1932 or 33 upon hear­ing rumors “about Heidegger’s sym­pa­thy with Nation­al Social­ism.” (Her let­ter has been lost.) He replied with a num­ber of excus­es for spe­cif­ic acts—such as refus­ing to super­vise Jew­ish students—and assured her of his feel­ings, but “nowhere in the let­ter is there any denial of Nazi sym­pa­thies,” writes Adam Kirsch at The New York­er. The two met after the war in Freiburg, and Hei­deg­ger lat­er sent Arendt a pas­sion­ate, poet­ic let­ter in 1950, extolling the “excit­ing, still almost unspo­ken under­stand­ing” between them, “emerg­ing from an affin­i­ty that was cre­at­ed so quick­ly, that comes from so far away, that has not been shak­en by evil and con­fu­sion.”

Lat­er, in a 1969 birth­day trib­ute essay “Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger at Eighty,” Arendt penned what has gen­er­al­ly been tak­en as an exon­er­a­tion of Hei­deg­ger. In it, she “com­pared Hei­deg­ger to Thales,” writes Gor­don, “the ancient philoso­pher who grew so absorbed in con­tem­plat­ing the heav­ens that he stum­bled into the well at his feet.” The truth is quite a bit more com­pli­cat­ed than that, and quite a bit less lofty. But as Maria Popo­va elo­quent­ly writes, their rela­tion­ship “expos­es the com­plex­i­ty and con­tra­dic­tion of which the human spir­it is woven, its threads nowhere more ragged than in love.” Read many more excerpts from their let­ters at Brain Pick­ings. And find com­plete let­ters col­lect­ed in the vol­ume, Let­ters: 1925–1975 — Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger and Han­nah Arendt.

via Brain Pick­ings

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Look Inside Han­nah Arendt’s Per­son­al Library: Down­load Mar­gin­a­lia from 90 Books (Hei­deg­ger, Kant, Marx & More)

Heidegger’s “Black Note­books” Sug­gest He Was a Seri­ous Anti-Semi­te, Not Just a Naive Nazi

Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger Talks Phi­los­o­phy with a Bud­dhist Monk on Ger­man Tele­vi­sion (1963)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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