Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time (Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences, 20) 3031396294, 9783031396298

Citation preview

Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20

Chelsea C. Harry George N. Vlahakis   Editors

Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time

Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences Volume 20

Series Editors Ruth Edith Hagengruber, Department of Humanities, Center for the History of Women Philosophers, Paderborn University, Paderborn, Germany Mary Ellen Waithe, Professor Emerita, Department of Philosophy and Comparative Religion, Cleveland State University, Cleveland, OH, USA Gianni Paganini, Department of Humanities, University of Piedmont, Vercelli, Italy Editorial Board Luka Borsic, Institute of Philosophy, Zagreb, Croatia Antonio Calcagno, Philosophy Department, King’s University College, London, ON, Canada Sabrina Ebbersmeyer, Department of Communication, University of Copenhagen, København S, Denmark John Conley, Loyola University Maryland, Baltimore, MD, USA Karen Green, University of Melbourne, St Kilda, VIC, Australia Sarah Hutton, University of York, London, UK Katerina Karpenko, Philosophy, Kharkiv National Medical University, Kharkiv, Ukraine Klaus Mainzer, Technical University Munich, München, Germany Ronny Miron, Bar-Ilan University, Ganey Tikva, Israel Marie-Frederique Pellegrin, Université Jean Molin Lyon III, Lyon, France Sandra Plastina, Department of Culture Education, Università della Calabria, Arcavacata di Rende, Italy Dorothy Rogers, Montclair State University, Montclair, NJ, USA Sigridur Thorgeirsdottir, Department of Philosophy, University of Iceland, Reykjavik, Iceland George N. Vlahakis, Open Hellenic University, Athens, Greece Elizabeth Minnich, Association of American Colleges & Universities, Charlotte, NC, USA

Paola Rumore, Department of Di Filosofia, Universita degli Studi di Torino, Torino, Italy Mariafranca Spallanzani, University of Bologna, Bologna, Italy Tamara Albertini, Department of Philosophy, University of Hawaii at Manoa, Honolulu, HI, USA Dorota Dutsch, Santa Barbara, USA Romana Bassi, Padova, Italy Massimo Mazzotti, Berkeley, CA, USA

As the historical records prove, women have long been creating original contributions to philosophy. We have valuable writings from female philosophers from Antiquity and the Middle Ages, and a continuous tradition from the Renaissance to today. The history of women philosophers thus stretches back as far as the history of philosophy itself. The presence as well as the absence of women philosophers throughout the course of history parallels the history of philosophy as a whole. Edith Stein, Hannah Arendt and Simone de Beauvoir, the most famous representatives of this tradition in the twentieth century, did not appear from nowhere. They stand, so to speak, on the shoulders of the female titans who came before them. The series Women Philosophers and Scientists published by Springer is of interest not only to the international philosophy community, but also for scholars in history of science and mathematics, the history of ideas, and in women’s studies.

Chelsea C. Harry · George N. Vlahakis Editors

Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time

Editors Chelsea C. Harry Southern Connecticut State University New Haven, CT, USA

George N. Vlahakis Hellenic Open University Athens, Greece

ISSN 2523-8760 ISSN 2523-8779 (electronic) Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences ISBN 978-3-031-39629-8 ISBN 978-3-031-39630-4 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Series Foreword

Women Philosophers and Scientists The history of women’s contributions to philosophy and the sciences dates back to the very beginnings of these disciplines. Theano, Hypatia, Du Châtelet, Agnesi, Germain, Lovelace, Stebbing, Curie, Stein are only a small selection of prominent Women Philosophers and Scientists throughout history. The Springer Series Women Philosophers and Scientists provides a platform for publishing cutting-edge scholarship on women’s contributions to the sciences, to philosophy, and to interdisciplinary academic areas. We therefore include in our scope women’s contributions to biology, physics, chemistry, and related sciences. The Series also encompasses the entire discipline of the history of philosophy since antiquity (including metaphysics, aesthetics, philosophy of religion, etc.). We welcome also work about women’s contributions to mathematics and to interdisciplinary areas such as philosophy of biology, philosophy of medicine, sociology, etc. The research presented in this series serves to recover women’s contributions and to revise our knowledge of the development of philosophical and scientific disciplines, so as to present the full scope of their theoretical and methodological traditions. Supported by an advisory board of internationally esteemed scholars, the volumes offer a comprehensive, up-to-date source of reference for this field of growing relevance. See the listing of planned volumes. The Springer Series Women Philosophers and Scientists will publish monographs, handbooks, collections, anthologies and dissertations. Paderborn, Germany Cleveland, USA Vercelli, Italy

Editors-in-Chief Ruth Hagengruber Mary Ellen Waithe Gianenrico Paganini

v

Contents

1

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chelsea C. Harry and George N. Vlahakis

2

Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated Driving Force . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Efpraxia Lampropoulou

1

5

3

Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time . . . . . . . . . . Argyro Loukaki

21

4

New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chelsea C. Harry

39

5

Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing Pathways for Grene’s and Keller’s Naturalist Accounts of Living Beings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Anna Frammartino Wilks

6

7

53

A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal

71

Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain and Blaise Pascal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jil Muller

85

8

The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101 Carol M. Bensick

9

Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129 Ivory Day

vii

viii

Contents

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics: Teaching Émilie Du Châtelet’s, Luise Lange and Grete Hermann . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151 Andrea Reichenberger 11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn Fox Keller’s Philosophy of Science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163 Maya Roman 12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements as a Form of Women’s Engagement with Science . . . . . . 179 Evangelia Chordaki and Antigoni Lazopoulou

Editors and Contributors

About the Editors Chelsea C. Harry is Professor of Philosophy at Southern Connecticut State University in New Haven, Connecticut, USA. She is the author of Chronos in Aristotle’s Physics: On the Nature of Time (Springer, 2015) and co-editor of Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Presocratic Natural Philosophy in Later Classical Thought (Brill, 2021) in addition to a number of articles and book chapters in ancient philosophy, natural philosophy, nineteenth-century German thought, intercultural philosophy, and women in the history of philosophy. George N. Vlahakis is an Associate Professor of History of Science and Philosophy, School of Humanities, Hellenic Open University in Athens, Greece. He is Director of the M.Sc. Program “Science Communication” and of the M.A. Program “Philosophy and the Arts”. He is former President of the Commission for Science and Literature DHST/IUHPST, Secretary of the History of Physics Group/European Physical Society and Correspondent member of the International Academy of the History of Sciences. He has published a large number of papers and books in English and Greek and has organized and participated in many national and international Conferences.

Contributors Carol M. Bensick Los Angeles, CA, USA Evangelia Chordaki National Hellenic Research Foundation, Athens, Greece; Seeger Center for Hellenic Studies at Princeton University, NJ, USA

ix

x

Editors and Contributors

Ivory Day UNAM, Programa de Becas Posdoctorales en la UNAM. Becaria del Instituto de Investigaciones Filosóficas/asesorada por el doctor Guillermo Hurtado, Mexico City, Mexico Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain; University of New Haven, West Haven, CT, USA; University of Shanghai, Shanghai, China Chelsea C. Harry Southern Connecticut State University, New Haven, CT, USA Efpraxia Lampropoulou Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece Argyro Loukaki Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece Antigoni Lazopoulou Athens, Greece Jil Muller Paderborn University, Paderborn, Germany Andrea Reichenberger University of Siegen, Siegen, Germany Maya Roman Tel Aviv University, Tel Aviv, Israel George N. Vlahakis Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece Anna Frammartino Wilks Acadia University, Wolfville, NS, Canada

Chapter 1

Introduction Chelsea C. Harry and George N. Vlahakis

Since the mid-20th century, there has been mounting interest in the history of women’s contributions to science, philosophy, and literature. Margaret Rossiter, for instance, was one of the first scholars to recover contributions by women, sometimes referred to as “hidden figures,” in the history of science. There is now a wellestablished contemporary effort to raise global awareness about the contributions of women in the histories of philosophy and science, especially by Ruth Hagengruber’s Center for the History of Women Philosophers and Scientists at the University of Paderborn in Paderborn, Germany. In 2015, Hagengruber co-edited a special edition of the Monist with Karen Green, which became a call to action. It not only included articles examining the roles women have played in each major philosophical period, providing a foundation for subsequent research, workshops, conferences, summer schools, collaborations, and publications, but also an argument for the revision of the philosophical canon. Recovery of contributions by minoritized populations to the histories of philosophy and science has called into question the stories we have been telling about the history of ideas. Based on research by Rossiter, Green, Hagengruber, along with others’ findings, the oft-held thesis that women had no presence in the creation of Western culture is slowly being replaced by the idea that women and their influences and contributions were excluded from traditionally male-dominated disciplines because of patriarchal societal structures. The result of this paradigm shift is that some scholars in these disciplines are indeed reevaluating what has been considered canonical. Although we cannot undo history and a legacy of patriarchy C. C. Harry Southern Connecticut State University, New Haven, CT, USA e-mail: [email protected] G. N. Vlahakis (B) Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_1

1

2

C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis

that left women in the margins of learned societies, we can continue to give voice to the exceptional women who did somehow find a way to contribute their ideas to the development of Western intellectual history. The aim of this collection is to add to this effort, bringing to light the scholarship, influence, and insights made by various women throughout time in the histories of science, philosophy, and literature. Many of the papers included in this volume were originally presented at two international workshops, one in 2018 in Syros Greece, and another on in 2021 in Paderborn, Germany, in cooperation with The International Commission on Science and Literature DHST/IUHPST, the Commission on Women and Gender Studies DHST/IUHPST, the Center for the History of Women Philosophers and Scientists, Paderborn University, the School of Humanities of the Hellenic Open University, the Institute of Historical Research/National Hellenic Research Foundation, and the Department of History and Philosophy of Science, University of Athens. The 2018 workshop in Syros, Greece aimed to rediscover and to re-evaluate the impact and role of women in the history of science, philosophy, and literature. The conference brought multiple international perspectives into dialogue, building communication and cooperation among scholars representing the three disciplines. A subsequent workshop in 2021 in Paderborn, Germany, investigated the thematic role space and time played in works by certain women in the history of science and philosophy. The present volume represents the diversity of scholarship, multinationalism, and interdisciplinary dialogue that we editors found at these two workshops. Efpraxia Lampropoulou provides a broad overview of women, in prehistoric times, and in the ancient Greek Classical and Hellenistic periods, who contributed to the foundations of and developments of science and philosophy. Nevertheless, Lampropoulou argues, the contributions of these women have been historically undervalued and overlooked. Argyro Loukaki’s chapter explores the links between philosophy and poetry as they emerge in Sappho of Lesbos’s lyric poetry, highlighting the power of myth as a bridge to wisdom. In so doing, Loukaki discusses themes of fragmentation in Sappho’s poetics as a characteristic shared with modernism, Sappho’s interaction with the poetic tradition of her time, her poetic self and milieu, the cosmogonic atmosphere, the importance of mythology, analogy, and nature in her poetry, as well as the dynamism of the archaic poetic genius and the poetic pull of the divine into the poetic sphere. Chelsea C. Harry proposes that Sappho of Lesbos was a kind of philosopher of time. Namely, Harry has argued that Aristotle was not a philosopher of time, per se, but rather a philosopher of beings who discussed the concept of time in his Physics because it pertained to the way substantial beings exist. She finds a similar approach in the “New Sappho,” for whom life and desire were topics of concern and by virtue of the human experiences of these, discusses temporality in her poetry. Anna Frammartino Wilks argues that seventeenth century philosophers Anne Conway and Margaret Cavendish made significant contributions to the naturalist approach for the explanation of biological phenomena. Recognizing the complexity of living beings, these thinkers paved the way for contemporary developments in the

1 Introduction

3

philosophy of science, for example in the works of Marjorie Grene and Evelyn Fox Keller that resist reductive accounts of living beings. Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal gives a detailed description of the life and work of Maria Sibylla Merian, aiming to evince the influence she had both on her own society, on subsequent generations of entomologists, and on other naturalists throughout the eighteenth century, despite that she was not historically given this due credit. Jil Muller’s chapter examines Sophie Germain’s mathematical understanding of space and time in an effort to discover Germain’s moral theory. She then compares Germain’s moral thinking to Pascal’s moral and mathematical thoughts in Pensées. Despite that Muller demonstrates the similarities between how both thinkers treat space and time in their works, she also shows that they diverge in the applicability of their conclusions. Carol M. Bensick offers original archive research, along with original reviews of works written by the nineteenth century American thinker, Sarah Dorsey. Bensick argues convincingly that there is evidence of philosophical merit in Dorsey’s works, particularly in her later career when she quotes other thinkers less and begins to step out with her own views. Ivory Day argues that analytic philosopher Susan Stebbing, a contemporary of Bertrand Russel, offers a better example for how to read and interpret thoughts different from one’s own. Day shows that Stebbing’s readings of Bergson involved careful attention to understanding Bergson’s methodology and that he sought to offer an alternative to western logic; whereas, by contrast, Russel condemns Bergson using the very system of logic that Bergson works intentionally to defy. In Andrea Reichenberg’s chapter, she posits that women’s contributions in the histories of philosophy, physics, and history must be included both in contemporary research and teaching in these areas. To this end, she offers three sample lesson plans to show how advanced students could reconsider contributions by Newton, Einstein, and von Neumann when they read and understand challenges posed to these contributions by women in their own time, specifically, Émilie Du Châtelet’s, Luise Lange, and Grete Hermann. Maya Roman shows us that feminist standpoints challenge androcentric science. To this end, her chapter investigates similarities between standpoints found in the works of Alfred North Whitehead and Evelyn Fox Keller. She offers a careful preliminary conclusion that Whitehead’s philosophy of science offers a feminist standpoint, which she then deftly connects to the standpoint seen in Keller’s contemporary philosophy of science. Evangelia Chordaki and Antigoni Lazopoulou deploy the history of feminist birth control movements in Greece between 1976 and 1986 as an example of an alternative form of knowledge that correlates women with scientific ideas and practice and, moreover, science with the public. They demonstrate the complexity of the scientific phenomenon and highlight the presence of women in science in terms of production and circulation of knowledge. Uncovering and bringing to light the contributions of women in the history of ideas will be an on-going project. With this volume, we offer a piece of the excavation.

4

C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis

Chelsea C. Harry is Professor of Philosophy at Southern Connecticut State University in New Haven, Connecticut, USA. She is the author of Chronos in Aristotle’s Physics: On the Nature of Time (Springer, 2015) and co-editor of Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Presocratic Natural Philosophy in Later Classical Thought (Brill, 2021) in addition to a number of articles and book chapters in ancient philosophy, natural philosophy, nineteenth century German thought, intercultural philosophy, and women in the history of philosophy. George N. Vlahakis is an Associate Professor of History of Science and Philosophy, School of Humanities, Hellenic Open University in Athens, Greece. He is Director of the M.Sc. Program “Science Communication” and of the M.A. Program “Philosophy and the Arts”. He is former President of the Commission for Science and Literature DHST/IUHPST, Secretary of the History of Physics Group/European Physical Society and Correspondent member of the International Academy of the History of Sciences. He has published a large number of papers and books in English and Greek and has organized and participated in many national and international Conferences.

Chapter 2

Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated Driving Force Efpraxia Lampropoulou

Abstract According to existing sources and archeological findings, the participation of women in the development of natural philosophy and sciences during both the prehistoric period and in classical antiquity, as well as in the Hellenistic period, seems to be quite limited and fragmented. Despite this fact, women played a significant role in the development of early science. A closer look at the lives and achievements of these women–forerunners of modern female scientists in medicine, chemistry, astronomy, and mathematics–reveals this influence.

2.1 Introduction The presence of women in natural science is not easily detected by the historians who wanted to highlight the participation of women in science, to illuminate their scientific endeavors and accomplishments, the barriers they have faced, and the strategies they have followed to cultivate their scientific interests and to be accepted and recognized by the established male scientific community. Science is always a territory, where usually, only a selected group of powerful individuals, an elite can activate. The history of women in science is even more selective. It is mainly the story of privileged women that, due to their family status, had a proper education. With a few exceptions, these women came from the upper classes and had the resources that enabled them to pursue their studies and research. In classical antiquity the presence of women in the public sphere was unduly oppressed. Hypatia, considered as the most brilliant thinker of her time, was dragged from her chariot and killed with sharpened shells. Aspasia, Pericles’s wife, mentioned in Plutarch’s Lives for her “rare political wisdom”, was sent to prison and liberated only after the intervention of Pericles (Plutarch, tr. Rangavis, 1864). Theano, Pythagoras’s wife, according Diogenes Laertius (8.42), was taken prisoner and E. Lampropoulou (B) Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_2

5

6

E. Lampropoulou

tortured to reveal the secrets of her sect by a tyrant when she was head of the Pythagoreans (Huizenga, 2013). As for Plato’s mentor, Diotima, she was regarded as a fictional creation. In the following text, we aim to provide an indicative account of the most important female figures involved in sciences mainly in classical antiquity and Hellenistic period, introduced by an overview shedding light on the role of early women in the development of scientific inquiry and practices during the prehistoric times.

2.2 Prehistoric Women and Early Developments in Mesopotamia and Egypt Anthropologists have traditionally emphasized the skills, tools, and weapons fabricated by ‘Man the Hunter’, and they have rather neglected the knowledge and tools invented by ‘Woman the Food Gatherer’. And yet, gathering was the primary subsistence activity of our early ancestors, and women gatherers can be considered the first ‘botanists’. The craft to prepare clay and fire pottery was mainly a female activity. By Cro-Magnon times, women were manufacturing jewelry and mixing cosmetics–these can be thought of as the first steps of chemistry (Alic, 1986). The extraordinarily demanding conditions of the ice-age seems to have had a profound effect on the roles of men and women. The broadening diet in the Upper Palaeolithic to include smaller animals, birds and fish means that women may have played as much of a role as men. The demands of childbearing and child care imposed a heavy burden on women. First and foremost, this was reflected in life expectancy. The transition to agriculture appears, however, to have affected men and women differently. The mean age at death for men increased, that for women decreased, as increased fertility led to higher maternal mortality. This shift could well have had an impact on the gender roles (Burroughs, 2005). The emergence of climatic stability and more rigid social structures enabled people to live in larger communities and, for many of them, to develop specialist skills and trades. In the well-organized Neolithic society, the social role of women was very important, since it was they who coordinated and at the same time reproduced life and thus increased and improved the family. However, her continuously multiplied obligations resulted in the gradual isolation of women in the home and to women’s exclusion from any active participation in basic economy. The nuclear family, sexual division of labor, and provisioning by the father came into being. Women did the cooking, one of the major bases for lasting human relationships, and protected the food supplies while men developed new social and economic ties and bolstered their social standing. The women carried out all domestic activities, and the men were warriors, farmers, and fishers (Fagan & Durrani, 2018). This evolution gradually restricted women in the house and upgraded the role of man to a warrior protector. As a result, women were degraded. In Mesopotamia, according to the great legal code of Hammurabi, a girl was the legal property of her father until sold to her husband. It is understandable that this

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

7

situation is hardly encouraging for a woman to produce science. However, one of the earliest known women in science is En Hedu’ Anna, who lived in Babylon at around 2350 BCE. Her father was Sargon who created the Sargonian Dynasty of Babylon, and she was the chief priestess of the Moon Goddess of the city of Babylon. The priests and priestesses of the time were involved in astronomy and mathematics, as they formulated a lunar calendar based on the phases of the Moon. In addition, she was a poet and is considered the world’s first named author in all of history (Howard, 2017). In Egypt, women traditionally owned property, and it was the mother’s name that was listed in genealogies. Egyptian women supervised the state-managed textile and perfume industries and worked as scribes.1 Women could attend their exclusively female school in the temple of Neith at Säis, which specialized in obstetrics and gynecology. The medical schools at Sais and Heliopolis attracted women students and teachers from throughout the ancient world. The Kahun medical papyrus indicates that women specialists diagnosed pregnancy, guessed at the sex of the unborn child, tested for sterility, and treated dysmenorrhea. Women surgeons performed cesarean sections, removed breasts with cancerous tumors, and set bones with splints (Watterson, 1991). The stela of Lady Peseshet of the Fifth and Sixth Dynasties is known from the Giza tomb of Akhet-hotep, who was probably her son. The stela names her, as either a ‘female overseer of female physicians’ or a ‘chief woman physician’ depending on the translation. If she is the former, this need not suggest that she was a physician, but does suggest that there were other female doctors at this time (Graves-Brown, 2010). The written history of science begins in Egypt during the Old Kingdom. The Egyptians were interested in the practical aspects of science. Priests and priestesses developed mathematics and astronomy to solve mainly practical problems. Calculating time was the initial drive for systematic astronomical observation, but soon the Egyptians became interested in Babylonian astrology. Aganice (or Athyrta), was a member of the court of Pharaoh Sestoris in Egypt. There are some claims that she was his daughter, but she is not so named in the Royal family pyramid (Bernardi, 2016). Hatshepsut, the elder daughter of the 18th-dynasty king Thutmose I and his consort Ahmose, was married to her half-brother Thutmose II, son of the lady Mutnofret. Since three of Mutnofret’s older sons had died prematurely, Thutmose II inherited his father’s throne about 1492 BCE, with Hatshepsut as his consort. Hatshepsut bore one daughter, Neferure, but no son. When her husband died about 1479 BCE, the throne passed to his son Thutmose III, born to Isis, a lesser harem queen. As Thutmose III was an infant, Hatshepsut acted as regent for the young king (Cathleen, 2005). During her peaceful reign, she developed the resources of Egypt, reviving the mining industry at Sinai and building a famous temple at Dayr el Bahari in western 1

‘(Herodotus BOOK II). The Egyptians in their manners and customs, seem to have reversed the ordinary practices of mankind. For instance, women attend market and are employed in trade, while men stay at home and do the weaving’.

8

E. Lampropoulou

Thebes. She organized botanical expeditions to exotic Punt in search of medicinal plants. Her missions to Punt, the birthplace of the gods, are commemorated on her mortuary temple at Deir el-Bahri by depictions of strange flora and fauna, and scenes of tribute such as ivory, apes, ostrich feathers, eggs, ebony and incense (GravesBrown, 2010).

2.3 Ancient Greece In the ancient Greek world, some women were active as healers and had expertise in the medical arts. Names of specific women like Themistoclea and Aglaonice have come down to us in references from classical authors (e.g., Diogenes Laertius (8.1), Plato’s Gorgias (513a)). One of the first mentions appears in Homer’s Iliad, concerning an early Greek female physician, named Agamede, who lived before the Trojan war. Myth and reality merge in the Iliad; however, the statement that a woman was skilled in the use of plants for healing purposes and that she “knew of each medicinal herb the wide world grows” indicates the existence of a specific woman with knowledge of the medicinal properties of plants (Finkelberg, 2011). Pythagoreanism provided the possibility of women’s involvement in natural inquiry and mathematics. Pythagoras of Samos (c. 582–500 BCE) traveled throughout the Mediterranean world, studying with many teachers. According to Diogenes Laertius (8.1), obtaining most of his moral doctrines came from Themistoclea, a Delphic priestess. Other references (Nickolson, 1705) assert that Themistoclea was the sister of Pythagoras. The likelihood is indeed that Pythagoras obtained his ideas from his sister but preferred to report them as coming from the Oracle, in order to make the views appear more authoritative. Pythagoras finally settled in the Greek colony of Croton in southern Italy, between 540 and 520 BCE. There, he founded a quasi-religious, quasi-political community devoted to mathematical and philosophical speculation. The Order included men and women on equal terms. It is reported that there were at least 28 women teachers and students in the School. The best known Pythagorean woman was Theano (Pellò, 2022). She was much quoted, influential, and even adopted as a model by Neopythagoreans. Theano is recorded as having been the wife of Pythagoras (Diogenes Laertius 8.42).2 She was his student and later became a teacher in the School. She was credited with having written treatises on cosmology, mathematics, physics, medicine, and on the Pythagorean precept of the ‘golden mean’ (moderation). Theano and her daughters were reputed to be excellent healers. They were said to have won a debate with 2 42Ἦν δὲ τῷ Πυθαγόρᾳ καὶ γυνή, Θεανὼ ὄνομα, Βροντίνου τοῦ Κροτωνιάτου θυγάτηρ· οἱ δέ, γυναῖκα μὲν εἶναι Βροντίνου, μαθήτριαν δὲ Πυθαγόρου. ἦν αὐτῷ καὶ θυγάτηρ Δαμώ, ὥς φησι Λύσις ἐν ἐπιστολῇ τῇ πρὸς Ἵππασον, περὶ Πυθαγόρου λέγων οὕτως· “λέγοντι δὲ πολλοὶ τὺ καὶ δαμοσίᾳ φιλοσοφέν, ὅπερ ἀπαξίωσε Πυθαγόρας ὅς γέ τοι Δαμοῖ τᾷ ἑαυτοῦ θυγατρὶ παρακαταθέμενος τὰ ὑπομνάματα ἐπέσκαψε μηδενὶ τῶν ἐκτὸς τᾶς οἰκίας παραδιδόμεν. ἁ δὲ δυναμένα πολλῶν χραμάτων ἀποδίδοσθαι τὼς λόγως οὐκ ἐβουλάθη· πενίαν καὶ τὰς τῶ πατρὸς ἐπισκάψιας ἐνόμιζε χρυσῶ τιμιωτέρας ἦμεν, καὶ ταῦταγυνά.”

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

9

the physician Euryphon on the age-old question of fetal development, the women arguing that the fetus was viable before the seventh month. They believed that the human body was a microcosmic copy of the macrocosm–the universe as a whole (Pomeroy, 2013). Aganice of Thessaly, or Aglaonice, became famous in the fifth century BCE for her ability to predict eclipses of both the sun and moon. Although she must have used the Saros eclipse cycle discovered by the Chaldean astronomers, she was widely regarded as a witch. In his Advice to Bride and Groom, Plutarch explained that Aglaonice’s knowledge of the lunar cycle and its eclipses “imposed upon the women and made them all believe that she was drawing down the moon” (Plutarch, & Vernardak¯es, 1888). In Plato’s Gorgias (513a), Socrates speaks of “the Thessalian enchantresses, who, as they say, bring down the moon from heaven at the risk of their own perdition” (Plato’s Gorgias 1864). Aglaonice is an important symbolic figure in the history of science, the first woman astronomer.

2.3.1 Classical Athens In the fifth century BCE, the city-state of Athens, encouraged by political and military successes, entered a period of prosperity and intellectual greatness. The growth of a democratic form of government in Athens attracted philosophers and mathematicians from throughout the Mediterranean world, many of whom were Pythagoreans (Zhmud, 2012).

2.3.2 Aspasia of Miletus Prostitution was a flourishing profession in classical Athens. The high-class prostitutes, the hetairai (‘companions to men’) were usually foreign-born women barred by law from marrying Athenian citizens. These hetairai were often educated, artistic and intellectual, forming a class of their own, for they were free from the restrictions imposed on the wives of Athenian citizens (Mosse, 1983). The most famous of these hetairai was Aspasia, who was born in Miletus in Ionia, the daughter of Axiochus, a learned man who had given her a fine education. She came to Athens to engage in the intellectual life of the city but, on arrival, found herself, as a foreigner, classified as a courtesan. After about 445 BCE, Aspasia lived with Pericles, the military and political leader of Athens. She was said to have written his famous funeral oration of 430 BCE, and she appears in Plato’s Socratic Dialogue, Menexenus, as a sophist instructor (Plato, Menexenus dialogue, 235). Plutarch said she taught rhetoric to many noble Athenians: “Socrates, was said to have visited her often to discuss the arts of rhetoric and philosophy; and those men who frequented her company carry their wives with them to listen to her. Her views may have influenced those expressed by Plato in the

10

E. Lampropoulou

Republic regarding women (Pomeroy, 1996). Philosophers of her time called her the “mistress of eloquence” (Cicero, 1949). Clearly, she was an important figure in fifth century Athens (Kaibel, 1849). In fact, Aspasia kept a salon–or, as Plutarch called it, ‘a home for young courtesans’–where the leaders of classical Athens gathered to discuss questions of politics and science. Anaxagoras, the important Ionian philosopher, included in her salon, was the first to suggest that the moon and planets were similar to the earth and that the moon shone by reflected light. Anaxagoras and Aspasia were both prosecuted for impiety and were liberated only through the intervention of Pericles (Rangavis, 1864).

2.3.3 Agnodice Agnodice, according to the Fabulae of Hyginus, was an Athenian maiden who disguised herself as a man and studied under the physician, Herophilus. In Athens during the fourth century BCE, slaves and free-born Athenian women were forbidden to practice medicine (Hyginus, 1960, par. 274). Agnodice, as she was attempting to help a woman in labor, was thrust aside by the patient, until Agnodice assured her that she too, was a woman. For transgressing the law, she was tried and convicted by the Areopagus, the high Court of Appeal for criminal and civil cases. Α large number of women protested her conviction, and the judge recanted his former position, replacing the old law with one that allowed women to practice medicine on their own sex (Alic, 1986).

2.3.4 Diotima In Plato’s Symposium, Socrates referred to his teacher Diotima, priestess of Mantinea, who probably was a Pythagorean (Steadman, 2009). Diotima, is credited by Socrates as having opened his eyes to the values of poetry, love, and, most importantly of all, the nature of knowledge and the ‘Forms’ themselves. The question whether Diotima was a real or fictitious person was first raised at the end of the fifteenth century. The conclusion that she was a product of Plato’s imagination has had the status of received doctrine ever since (Waithe, 1987). For half a millennium, there is no mention of Diotima in any of the popular literature and plays, nor in the scholarly histories, encyclopedias, or philosophical writings. Her teachings, her erotic philosophy, indeed all mention of her existence survive only in the recensions of Plato’s Symposium.3 It is not until the second century CE before she is again mentioned–together with 3

Plato Symposium Diotima, the Diviner (201e–212a) “Καὶ σὲ μέν γε ἤδη ἐάσω· τὸν δὲ λόγον τὸν περὶ τοῦ Ἔρωτος, ὅν ποτ᾽ ἤκουσα γυναικὸς Μαντινικῆς Διοτίμας, ἣ ταῦτά τε σοφὴ ἦν καὶ ἄλλα πολλά” (Plato’s Symposium, tr. Steadman, G. 2009).

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

11

Thargelia and Aspasia–in Lucian’s The Eunuch (Harmon, 1936, 339). While The Eunuch quickly builds into a comedy, it opens with the matter-of-fact mention of Diotima, Thargelia, and Aspasia as evidence that even women were philosophers. They are mentioned in connection with a eunuch’s appeal to Diocles to be permitted to have an “official” career as a philosophy teacher. Indeed, Lucian in The Portraits names Diotima among the famous women whose “portraits” or biographical sketches are added to the collection of influential ancients. There is no suggestion that Diotima is known to be anything other than a long-deceased philosopher-priestess.

2.3.5 Perictione-Axiothea-Lasthenia Plato’s mother, Perictione I, was also well-versed in Pythagorean mathematics and philosophy. In fact, tradition connected Platonism to Pythagoreanism through her. Alone among the Athenian philosophers, Socrates and Plato spoke out for the education of women. It was usually foreign women who studied at Plato’s Academy. Lastheneia and Axiothea had read the works of Plato and came to the Academy to study natural philosophy. Lastheneia is also mentioned as one of the most famous Pythagorean women (Pellò, 2022). Axiothea, of the Peloponnesian city of Phlius, was particularly interested in physics. It is significant that a woman, whether actually or apocryphally, was a part of the entourage of Plato, one of the most significant contributors to the form of modern science (Diogenes Laertius, 1959) (Pomeroy, 2013).

2.3.6 Arete of Cyrene Arete of Cyrene (fl. 370–40 BC) was also present at Plato’s Academy. She was the daughter of Aristippus, founder of the Cyrenaic School of philosophy (Diogenes Laërtius, Book II, 81). Arete was elected to succeed her father as head of the School (Strabo, Geography Vol. III). This school of philosophy held that the most important human intellectual enterprise was the search for happiness. The philosophic community which Arete eventually headed maintained a moral psychology which taught the uselessness of envy, passion, fear, and superstition. Cyrenaic hedonism required individuals to be completely adaptable to all of life’s disappointments and setbacks. She is said to have taught natural science, moral philosophy and ethics in Attica for 35 years, and to have written at least 40 books, including treatises on Socrates, agriculture and education (Waithe, 1987).

12

E. Lampropoulou

2.3.7 Aesara of Lucania Aesara of Lucania was a Greek/Italian Pythagorean philosopher. Born in Lucania, Aesara probably flourished in the fourth century BCE. Although little is known about her life, the treatise with the title On Human Nature is ascribed to her (Stobaeus I.41.27). In the extent fragment that survived, she described the soul as consisting of three parts: mind, “spiritedness,” and desire, with the principle of harmonia (correct proportion) governing the functioning of these parts. According to Aesara, the bases of individual and social moral law can be found through studying the human soul (Ogilvie, 2000). She said that human nature provided the standard for law and justice in the home as well as in the city. According to Aesara of Lucania, the home is a microcosm of the state. Consequently, women bear a large responsibility for creating the conditions under which harmony and order, and law and justice can exist in the state. A woman who doesn’t understand is likely to contribute disorder, discord, and chaos (Waithe, 1987).4

2.3.8 Artemisia of Caria In the same period, in Southwestern Anatolia, lived the Greek botanist and pharmacologist Artemisia. Artemisia is known for her great love for her brother and husband, Mausolus, and the construction of the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus, which she ordered built at his death. The Mausoleum was considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world based on the book of Philo of Byzantium. Artemisia of Caria was mentioned by Pliny in Natural History (77 AD), and in the Suidae Lexicon, for her knowledge of herbal medicine (Bostock & Riley, 1855) (Boccaccio & Guarino, 1964). Soranus of Ephesus noted that the herb Artemisia, which she named after herself, was used in the bath to prevent abortion and as a treatment in “retarded menses” and retained placenta. Another species of Artemisia was used to cause abortions. According to Pliny, Artemisia discovered the value of wormwood as a drink (Ogilvie & Harvey, 2000).

4

Waithe (1987) Text of On Human Nature! From On Human Nature by Aesara, * Pythagorean of Lucania: Human nature seems to me to provide a standard of law and justice both for the home and for the city. By following the tracks within himself whoever seeks will make a discovery: law is in him and justice, which is the orderly arrangement of the soul. Being threefold, it is organized in accordance with triple functions: that which effects judgment and thoughtfulness is [the mind] **, that which effects strength and ability is [high spirit],*** and that which effects love and kindliness is desire. These are all so disposed relatively to one another that the best part is in command, the most inferior is governed, and the one in between holds a middle place; it both governs and is governed.

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

13

2.3.9 Plato’s and Aristotle’s Ideas About Women Plato supports the idea that men and women are equally capable and they have the same functions in the state.5 However, in the Republic his principle of equality is restricted to the women of the upper classes. The equality of women in Plato’s isn’t consistent. In the Laws6 women are assigned, a much inferior role. In the Timaeus,7 women are treated not only as the weaker but also as the decadent form of humankind in the cycle of births and rebirths. Plato’s views on the worth of women change, with time and with context (Smith, 1983). Aristotle throughout his work supports the traditional view of his time, on the exclusion of women from politics and public life. In the Republic he declares, “as regards the sexes, the male is by nature superior and the female inferior, the male ruler and the female subject”.8 Though he ascribes to women the status of citizens, he regards them as citizens that stand in need of a permanent rule by their male superiors, in public as well as in the family. He uses biology to demonstrate that women are deformed men,9 a reproductive failure the same in kind, though of a lesser degree, as those that result in monstrosities (Frede, 2018).

5

Plat. Rep. [456α] καὶ γυμναστικὴ δ᾽ ἄρα οὔ, οὐδὲ πολεμική, ἡ δὲ ἀπόλεμος καὶ οὐ φιλογυμναστική; οἶμαι ἔγωγε. τί δέ; φιλόσοφός τε καὶ μισόσοφος; καὶ θυμοειδής, ἡ δ᾽ ἄθυμός ἐστι; καὶ ταῦτα. ἔστιν ἄρα καὶ φυλακικὴ γυνή, ἡ δ᾽ οὔ. ἢ οὐ τοιαύτην καὶ τῶν ἀνδρῶν τῶν φυλακικῶν φύσιν ἐξελεξάμεθα; τοιαύτην μὲν οὖν. καὶ γυναικὸς ἄρα καὶ ἀνδρὸς ἡ αὐτὴ φύσις εἰς φυλακὴν πόλεως, πλὴν ὅσα ἀσθενεστέρα, ἡ δὲ ἰσχυροτέρα ἐστίν. φαίνεται. 6 Plat. Laws. [639b] Παντάπασιν τινα πονηρὸν λέγεις, καὶ οὐδαμῶς ἀνδρῶν ἄρχοντα ἀλλά τινων σφόδρα γυναικῶν. 7 Plat. Timaeus [90c] τῶν γενομένων ἀνδρῶν ὅσοι δειλοὶ καὶ τὸν βίον ἀδίκως διῆλθον, κατὰ λόγον τὸν εἰκότα γυναῖκες μετεφύοντο ἐν τῇ δευτέρᾳ. 8 Arist. Rep .[1254b13-14] πάλιν ἐν ἀνθρώπῳ καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ζῴοις ὡσαύτως: τὰ μὲν γὰρ ἥμερα τῶν ἀγρίων βελτίω τὴν φύσιν, τούτοις δὲ πᾶσι βέλτιον ἄρχεσθαι ὑπ᾽ ἀνθρώπου: τυγχάνει γὰρ σωτηρίας οὕτως. ἔτι δὲ τὸ ἄρρεν πρὸς τὸ θῆλυ φύσει τὸ μὲν κρεῖττον τὸ δὲ χεῖρον, καὶ τὸ μὲν ἄρχον τὸ δ᾽ ἀρχόμενον. 9 Arist. DGA. [737a28] καὶ γὰρ τὰ τοιαῦτ’ ἔχει μόρια δυνάμει ᾗ διαφέρει τὸ θῆλυ τοῦ ἄρρενος. ὥσπερ γὰρ καὶ ἐκ πεπηρωμένων ὁτὲ μὲν γίγνεται πεπηρωμένα ὁτὲ δ’ οὔ, οὕτω καὶ ἐκ θήλεος ὁτὲ μὲν θῆλυ ὁτὲ δ’ οὒ ἀλλ’ ἄρρεν. τὸ γὰρ θῆλυ ὥσπερ ἄρρεν ἐστὶ πεπηρωμένον καὶ τὰ καταμήνια σπέρμα, οὐ καθαρὸν δέ.

14

E. Lampropoulou

2.4 Hellenistic Period 2.4.1 Epicurus and Themista On the other hand, Epicurus had a totally different point of view on the nature and the abilities of women. Epicurus settled in Athens around 300 BCE where he taught that the world was governed by chance. With his theory he tried to undermine deist and teleological explanations of the world by explaining all phenomena in purely mechanistic terms (Long, 1977). Women were admitted to the Epicurean School on an equal basis with men. Epicurus carried on a correspondence with Themista, who was referred to as ‘a sort of female Solon’, accredited to her the wisdom and the effectiveness of the Athenian statesman Solon, who is credited with having laid the foundations for Athenian democracy. Themista and her husband Leonteus were students of Epicurus, whose school was held in a garden in Athens (Diogenes Laertius, Book I, ch. 1). Roman orator Cicero later criticized Epicurus for praising Themista in ‘countless volumes’ rather than ‘worthier’ men (Cicero, De Finibus Bonorun et Malorum, book II, 68).

2.4.2 Mary the Jewess Mary or Maria the Jewess, also known as Mary the Prophetess, is an early alchemist, known from the works of the Gnostic Christian writer Zosimos of Panopolis. According to Zosimos, she lived between the first and third centuries CE. She’s called “The Jewess” because Zosimos called her “Sister of Moses”. That was an indirect way of saying she was wise. She is credited with the invention of several kinds of chemical apparatuses (Ruelle & Berthelot, 2022). Mary is said to have discovered hydrochloric acid, though this is not accepted by most science texts (Patai, 1982). The chemical devices attributed to her are: the Tribikos, a kind of alembic with three arms that was used to obtain substances purified by distillation. It is still used today in chemistry labs; the Kerotakis, a device used in alchemy to heat substances and to collect vapors. The Kerotakis was said to be a replication of the process of the formation of gold that was occurring in the bowels of the earth. This instrument was later modified by the German chemist Franz von Soxhlet in 1879 to create the extractor that bears his name, the Soxhlet extractor; and the Bain-marie (Mary’s Bath), which is essentially a double boiler. It is extensively used in chemical processes for which a gentle heat is necessary.

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

15

2.4.3 Cleopatra the Alchemist Cleopatra the Alchemist, who likely lived during the third century CE, was a Greek Egyptian alchemist, author, and philosopher. She is considered to be the inventor of the Alembic, an early tool for analytical chemistry. She is associated with the school of alchemy typified by Mary the Jewess. Michael Maier names her as one of the four women who knew how to make the philosopher’s stone, along with Maria the Jewess, Medera, and Taphnutia (Michael Maier, 1617). Cleopatra was mentioned with great respect in the Arabic encyclopedia Kitab al-Fihrist from 988 CE. She is credited with trying to quantify alchemy and its experiments. Three alchemical texts related to Cleopatra survived: “On Weights and Measures”, “Gold Making of Cleopatra” and “A Dialogue of the Philosophers and Cleopatra”. Cleopatra is most noted for the Chrysopoeia” (gold making), a single sheet of papyrus which contains only symbols, drawings and captions (Berthelot & Ruelle, 1888).

2.4.4 Hypatia Hypatia was a mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher. She was born in 370 CE in Alexandria. Her father was Theon of Alexandria, a mathematician attached to the Alexandrian Museum, a center of classical learning (Suidae Lexicon). Hypatia studied mathematics and astronomy at the Museum. Her father supervised her scientific education (Asmus, 1911). Socrates Scholasticus proclaimed that Hypatia was not only well known in her native land but that her fame was widespread, attracting students from far away (The Ecclesiastical History, 439 BCE). Synesius, a later bishop of Ptolemais, was one of her most famous students. Hypatia continued the program of her father Theon, which was essentially a determined effort to preserve the Greek mathematical and astronomical heritage in extremely difficult times. She is credited with commentaries on Apollonius of Perga’s Conics (geometry) and Diophantus of Alexandria’s Arithmetic (number theory), as well as an astronomical table (possibly a revised version of Book III of her father’s commentary on the Almagest). The scholar Alan Cameron (2016) postulates that editions of Ptolemy were codified and arranged by Hypatia. Synesius refers, in his letters, to two mechanical devices, an hydrometer (Letter 015) and a silver astrolabe (On an Astrolabe 14–18), invented by himself and Hypatia (Zotenberg & Charles, 1916). Hypatia carried out equinoctial observations in 414– 415 CE, initiated at the request of governor Orestes. This fact might be the cause of her murder, according to Ari Belenkiy (2010). Her success in establishing the correct day of the vernal equinox could undermine the Alexandrian Church’s authority in the timing of Easter, as it used equinoctial computations based on Ptolemy’s Syntaxis (Almagest) (Mosshammer, 2008). In the Suidae Lexicon, Hypatia’s death is recorded as follows: “she was torn apart by the Alexandrians and her body was outraged and scattered throughout the whole

16

E. Lampropoulou

city.10 ” The same source blames this atrocity on Bishop Cyril of Alexandria, envious over “her wisdom exceeding all bounds and especially in the things concerning astronomy”. Sudas and Socrates Scholasticus agree on the circumstances of her death but differ as to the reason for it, depending on their biases. Sudas, blames her death on the jealousy of Bishop Cyril. On the other hand, (Haas, 1997) cast Hypatia as a victim of political rivalry between the Roman prefect Orestes, who was a great admirer of Hypatia, and Cyril, who wanted to extend his authority over secular as well as religious areas. Hypatia’s murder is also described in the writings of the fifth century Christian historian, Socrates Scholasticus: For all men on account of her extraordinary dignity and virtue admired her the more. Yet even she fell a victim to the political jealousy which at that time prevailed. For as she had frequent interviews with Orestes, it was calumniously reported among the Christian populace, that it was she who prevented Orestes from being reconciled to the bishop. Some of them therefore, hurried away by a fierce and bigoted zeal, whose ringleader was a reader named Peter, waylaid her returning home, and dragging her from her carriage, they took her to the church called Cæsareum, where they completely stripped her, and then murdered her with tiles.946 After tearing her body in pieces, they took her mangled limbs to a place called Cinaron, and there burnt them. The Ecclesiastical History of Socrates Scholasticus. Revised, with Notes, by The Rev. Zenos A. C., D.D., (1886, 348–349)

This took place in March 415 CE. Orestes, the Roman governor of the province of Egypt, reported the murder and asked Rome to launch an investigation. He then resigned his office and fled Alexandria. The scarce early accounts of her life and death are often ambiguous and lend themselves to a variety of interpretations. Undoubtedly, she was a brilliant, beautiful woman for whom life was the cost of fame.

2.5 Conclusion Women were clearly involved in scientific activities to varying degrees from the very beginning of recorded history. Based on the available biographical data these women, whether famous or obscure, shared common characteristics: . Were born, lived, studied, and flourished in the eastern Mediterranean where major cities with cultural and educational opportunities existed . Were raised in families of high social and economic status . Shared significant common personal traits and qualities, such as perseverance and zeal to study and contribute to their sciences . Faced gender, social, scientific, and professional challenges, difficulties and obstacles Unfortuntely, posthumous historians relegated them to an inferior position, either by demoting their work or attributing their achievements to men. 10

Suidae Lexicon, p. 1059.

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

17

Bibliography Alic, M. (1986). Hypatia’s heritage: A history of women in science from antiquity through the nineteenth century (pp. 12–19). Beacon Press. Asmus, J. R. (1911). Das Leben des Philosophen Isidoros von Damaskios aus Damaskos (vol. 125, p. 31). F. Meiner. Belenkiy, A. (2010). An astronomical murder? Astronomy & Geophysics, 51, 2.09–2.13. Benson Harer, W., & el-Dawakhly, Z. (1990). Peseshet—The first female physician? Obstetrics and Gynecology, 74, 960–961. Bernardi, G. (2016). The unforgotten sisters (pp. 9–15). Springer Praxis. Berthelot, M., & Ruelle, C.-E. (1888). Collection des anciens alchimistes grecs, Paris, G. Steinheil. III. XI. — Zosime De Panopolis, Écrit Authentique “Sur l’art sacré et divin de la fabrication de l’or et de l’argent”. Bicknell, P. (1983). The witch Aglaonice and dark lunar eclipses in the second and first centuries BC. Journal of the British Astronomical Association, 93(4), 160–163. Boccaccio, G., & Guarino, G. A. (1964). Concerning famous women (p. 123). Allen & Unwin. Bostock, J., & Riley, H. T. (1855). The natural history of Pliny (vol. 5, ch. 36, vol. 6, ch. 4, 317). Boyd, M. (1963). The myths of hyginus (Mary Grant, Trans. & Ed., 1960 par. 231). University of Kansas Press. Burnyeat, M. (2012). Dissoi logoi. Explorations in ancient and modern philosophy (pp. 346–348). Cambridge University Press. Burroughs, W. (2005). Climate change in prehistory: The end of the reign of Chaos (pp. 156–157). Cambridge University Press. Byzantius, P. (1858). De septem orbis spectaculis. Mascardus. Cameron, A. (2016). Wandering poets and other essays on late Greek literature and philosophy (pp. 193–195). Oxford University Press. Cathleen, A. (Ed.). (2005). Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Cicero. (1949). Die Invetione. Der Optimo Genere Oratorum Topica (H. M. Hubell, Trans., par. 51–53). Harvard University Press. Cope, E. M. (1864). Plato’s Gorgias (p. 111). Deighton Bell & Co.; Bell and Daldy. Diogenes Laertius (3rd c. AD), tr. Hicks, R. D. (1959). Lives of eminent philosophers (pp. 277, 317, 375). Harvard University Press. Fagan, B. M., & Durrani, N. (2018). People of the earth: An introduction to world prehistory (p. 64). Routledge. Finkelberg, M. (2011). The homer encyclopedia (vol. 1, p. 63). Wiley. Francklin, T. (Trans.). (1781). Lucian. The works of Lucian (pr. for T. Candel in the Strand, Vol. III, p. 111). Frede, D. (2018). Equal but not equal: Plato and Aristotle on Women as Citizens BT. In G. Anagnostopoulos & G. Santas (Eds.), Democracy, justice, and equality in ancient Greece: Historical and philosophical perspectives (pp. 287–306). Springer International Publishing. Gordon, P. (2012). The invention and gendering of Epicurus (pp. 70–120). University of Michigan Press. Graves-Brown, C. (2010). Dancing for Hathor: Women in ancient Egypt (pp. 82, 143–154). Hambledon Continuum. Haas, C. (1997). Alexandria in late antiquity: Topography and social conflict, ancient society and history (pp. 312–313). Johns Hopkins University Press. Harmon A. M. (Trans.). (1936). Lucian’s Eunuch (p. 339). Harvard University Press. Hamilton, H. C. & Falconer, W. (1903). The geography of Strabo. Literally translated with notes (vol. II, pp. 212). G. Bell & Sons. Herodotus Book II (p. 36) Published in Vol. I of the Loeb Classical Library edition, 1920. Howard, S. (2017). En Hedu’anna. Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences, 103, 21. Huizenga, A. B. (2013). Moral education for women in the pastoral and Pythagorean letters. Philosophers of the Household (pp. 109–110). Supplements to Novum Testamentum.

18

E. Lampropoulou

Ioannis Stobaei Eclogarum physicarum et ethicarum libri duo, Meineke, A. (1860). In aedibus B. G. Teubneri (vol. I, p. 255). John of Nikiu, Zotenberg, H., & Charles, R. H. (1916). The chronicle of John, Bishop of Nikiu (pp. 112–116). Published for the Text and Translation Society by Williams & Norgate. Kaibel, G. (1887–1890). Athenaei Naucratitae Dipnosophistarum libri XV (par. 61). Leipzig. Long, A. A. (1977). Chance and natural law in Epicureanism. Phronesis, 22(1), 63–88. Michael Maier. (1617). Symbola aureae mensae duodecim nationum (p. 64). LibII. Mosse, C. (1983). La Femme dans la Grèce antique (pp. 67–83). Albin Michel. Mosshammer, A. A. (2008). The Easter computus and the origins of the Christian era (p. 65). Oxford University Press. Nickolson J. (1702). The lives of the ancient philosophers: Containing an account of their several sects, doctrines, actions, and remarkable sayings: Extracted from Diogenes Laertius, Casaubon, Menagius, Stanley, Gassendus, Charleton, and others, the best authors upon that subject (p. 557). Printed for John Nicholson and Tho. Newborough. Ogilvie, M., & Harvey, J. (2000). The biographical dictionary of women in science. Pioneering lives from ancient times to the mid-20th century (vol. 1 pp. 56, 63, 113). Patai, R. (1982). Maria the Jewess-founding mother of alchemy. Ambix, 29(3), 177–197. Pellò, C. (2022). Pythagorean women (p. 13). Cambridge University Press. Pliny, Bostock, J. & Riley, H. T. (Trans.). (1857). The natural history of Pliny (vol. 6, p. 316). H. G. Bohn. Plutarch & Vernardak¯es, G. N. (1888). Plutarchi Chaeronensis Moralia (p. 355). Teubner 1. Pomeroy, S. B. (1996). Prisoner of history: Aspasia of Miletus and her biographical tradition (review). American Journal of Philology, 117(4), 648–651. Pomeroy, S. B. (2013). Pythagorean women: A social history (pp: 6–7, 56). The Johns Hopkins University Press. Rangavis, A. (1864). Plutarch’s Parallel lives - Volume 2. Solon - Poplicola - Themistocles - Camillus - Pericles - Fabius Maximus (Translator: pp. 296–298). Ruelle, C. E., & Berthelot, M. (2022). Zosime De Panopolis. Écrit authentique sur l’art sacré et divin de la fabrication de l’or (Culturea éditions). Smith, N. D. (1983). Plato and Aristotle on the nature of women. Journal of the History of Philosophy, 21(4), 467–478. Socrates Scholasticus, Rev. by The Rev. Zenos A. C., D.D. (1886). The ecclesiastical history, Revised, with Notes, by The Rev. Zenos A. C., D.D., Pub. Philip Schaff (p. 293). Christian Literature Pub. Co. Socrates, Sozomen, Z. A. C., & Hartranft, C. D. (1957). The ecclesiastical history of Socrates Scholasticus (p. 348). Wm. B. Eerdmans. Steadman, G. (2009). Plato’s symposium (pp. 72–112). Suda Lexicon (1705), p. 1062. Synesius, Fitzgerald, C. B. P. A. (1926). The letters of Synesius of Cyrene. Translated into English with introduction and notes by augustine fitzgerald, Oxford University Press, H. Milford Taylor, F. S. (1930). A survey of Greek alchemy. Journal of Hellenic Studies, 50, 109–139. Teeter, E. (2006). Hatshepsut: From queen to pharaoh. American Journal of Archaeology, 110, 649–653. The Deipnosophists: Or, Banquet of the Learned, of Athenaeus (1854, vol. 13, p. 346). H. G. Bohn. Waithe, M. E. (Ed.). (1987). A history of women philosophers, (Vol. 1). Springer. Early Pythagoreans: Themistoclea, Theano, Arignote, Myia, and Damo, p. 11. Late Pythagoreans: Aesara of Lucania, Phintys of Sparta, and Perictione I, pp. 19–39, 198. Watterson, B. (1991). Women in Ancient Egypt. New York: St. Martin’s Press, pp. 27, 75–85 Watterson, B. (2011). Women in ancient Egypt (p. 27). Amberley Publishing Ltd. Zhmud, L. (2012). Pythagoras and the early Pythagoreans (p. 42). Oxford University Press.

2 Women and Science in Antiquity: An Overview of an Underestimated …

19

Efpraxia Lampropoulou is a high school science teacher whose research is focused on the relation between science and pseudoscience in the nineteenth century and the way this relation is depicted in the press, in particular the different roles that men and women played in the development of science and pseudoscience throughout history.

Chapter 3

Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time Argyro Loukaki

Abstract Ancient Greek thought was not simply rational and analytic but also mythical and intuitive, originating as it did from a fine intellectual and perceptual versatility where myth instigated but also crowned both philosophical thought and poetry. This chapter tests the above hypothesis in the case of Sappho, combining poetry, philosophical and geographical theory, plus mythology, to explore, more particularly, the following themes: Μyth as a bridge to wisdom, collective as well as multifaceted; the dynamism of the archaic poetic genius, namely, how the cosmogonic philosophical and scientific atmosphere of Sappho’s time is reflected in her poetry; her interaction with Homer’s poetic tradition; her own poetic self and milieu; fragmentation in Sappho’s poetics as a characteristic shared with modernism; analogy and nature in her poetry, plus the bonds between Sappho and Modern Greek poets like Odysseus Elytis. Space in Sappho accrues not just as a theoretical concept, but also as seat of sacredness and social participation, while nature reflects immediately the human condition, both personal and collective.

Greek proto-science and proto-philosophy first emerged in the seventh and sixth century BC Aegean alongside lyric poetry. Science and philosophy long intertwined as contemplative forms of search for the essence of the cosmos. This chapter explores Sappho’s interaction with the philosophy and science of her time, namely the conditions for both the emergence of lyric poetry and of Logos. A highly intellectual atmosphere gave birth to the early development of reason, providing the tools for the establishment of early science. Thought rigorously captured and developed patterns of ideas, carrying them to their logical extremity either as validated, and therefore

A. Loukaki (B) Hellenic Open University, Athens, Greece

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_3

21

22

A. Loukaki

transcendent culminations, or as absurdities.1 The admirable eloquence of Greek philosophy, including its penchant for probing the extreme, has deeply influenced subsequent thinkers in the West. Less comprehended remains that Greek thought was also mythical and intuitive, originating as it did from a fine intellectual and perceptual versatility where myth instigated but also crowned both philosophical thought and poetry.2 This dimension is often moderated in present theoretical accounts, in favour of a unidimensionally rational and analytic thesis; I will address this issue first, before moving on with Sappho’s art.

3.1 Myth and Philosophical Logos Ancient Greece is still portrayed by many, including George Steiner (2007), as the beacon of absolute rationalism. Independence from divine powers, realization that the world is made of matter, regular processes that are simply natural and do not depend on other parameters, plus objectivity of the world’s workings are conducive to freedom from myth (Veikos, 2016, 371). Yet, this streamlining attitude downplays evidence of the continuing power of myth and of the irrational, despite persuasive contributions like Dodds’ (see The Greeks and the Irrational, first edition, 1951). Some attribute this partiality for purely rational theses to the wish of positivists for noble ancestry in early Greek philosophy (Gregory, 2013, Introduction). However, the multi-layered logical-analytic plus mythical-intuitive standpoint of Presocratic Greece3 supersedes such limitations. Greek mythology irrigates the creative imagination of artists, thought, perceptions of space and the cosmos as well as literature. It is particularly fascinating as the product of incessant transformations and elaborations which emerge new or additional aspects of the human.4 More particularly, it familiarizes human thought not just with abstractions but also with spaces of various kinds and scales as its discursive qualities take spatial dimensions of universal validity; it mobilizes the visual imagination and metabolizes into space qualitative, that is, non-spatial concepts; it has political facets, since it transmits conceptions of civilized life; it enlarges the limits of mortal existence, allowing humans to have a brush with eternity; it satisfies the need for integrated meanings, conveying shared understandings of the essential;

On the latter, see Jin (2020). The Greeks conceived of the εἰς ἄτοπον απαγωγή/reductio ad absurdum (reduction to absurdity) argument through which an argument or proposition is tested by proving its absurd or ridiculous consequences when it is carried to logical conclusion. The earliest example of a reductio ad absurdum argument can be located in a satirical poem attributed to Xenophanes of Colophon (c. 570–c. 475 BC). 2 See Morgan (2000). 3 Modernism increasingly realized the need for the Sacred as an absolutely autonomous quest despite all external challenges (Papaioannou 1995, 119). The void created by secularization had to be filled with important modern mythologies, economic and political (Steiner, 2007, 51). 4 See Cassirer (1955) and Kakridis and Roussos (2021). 1

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

23

it also expresses antinomies closely5 ; therefore it probes the collective unconscious, as Freud has shown. Philosopher Giambattista Vico was the first to propose that myths, stories and legends of Greek antiquity disposed of a vital core of social and psychological history (Devare, 2016). Closer to the present, Einstein thought, in anti-Popperian manner,6 that what nature investigators hold to be thinkable is limited and incomplete. To realize scientific and/or philosophical leaps, he trusted extra-rational or non-sensory ways of knowing, including intuition, plus philosophy and art (Dossey, 2010). Scientifically logical fixation cannot capture the connection between everyday concepts and sense experiences; such a connection is only accessible through intuition (Einstein, 2011). The relation between logical/analytic discourse and mythical/ intuitive discourse is complex (Morgan, 2000). Myth is both a starting point for dialectical contemplation and the end of analytical processes; it therefore accrues that, in certain ways, myth is philosophy’s culmination. Even during the peak of modernism and positivism, architectural theorists like Siegfried Giedion declared that ‘the rationalist and exclusively materialist attitude, upon which the latest phase of Western civilization has been grounded, is insufficient’ (Loukaki, 2016a, 48). Only myth can make a human mass into a community with foundations, stability and continuity, because only myth can express Logos in a manner understandable by the many, allow the mass to express its own values, and humanize the world, claims philosopher Papaioannou (2003, 103; 2004, 82). Marx and Hegel agreed that mythology initially helps overcome the forces of nature, but that its power tends to vanish with the advent of real mastery over those forces. However, Marx also confessed a deeper need for the mythical: ‘there can be no social development which excludes all mythological relation to nature…and which accordingly claims from the artist an imagination free of mythology.’7 Passionate admirer of the glory of Ancient Greece, Marx even suggested that his role is identical to the role of mythical Prometheus (Steiner, 2007, 19).

5

The latter in Steiner (2007, 53). More on Einstein’s philosophy of science in https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/einstein-philsc ience/. Karl Popper, one of the greatest philosophers of science of the twentieth century, was also a social and political philosopher of considerable stature and a self-professed critical-rationalist, see https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/popper/. A political-philosophical argument, the positivism dispute (German: Positivismusstreit) started in 1961 between the critical rationalists (Popper, Hans Albert) and the Frankfurt School (Theodor Adorno, Jürgen Habermas) on the methodology of social sciences. The Frankfurt School ‘critical theory,’ drawing on concepts from the Hegelian and Marxian tradition, claims that sociology cannot be severed from its ‘metaphysical’ heritage; empirical questions are necessarily rooted in substantive philosophical issues (Strubenhoff, 2018). 7 Quoted in Porphyrios, see Loukaki (2016a, 48, note 13). 6

24

A. Loukaki

3.2 Homer and the Emergence of Sappho’s Lyric Poetry Homer, the great eighth-century poetic fountainhead of Greek poetry, shaped the very bedrock of archetypal spaces and times originating in Mycenaean Greece, plus the notion of virile heroisms in the Western world. Homer was the tutor of all Greeks, not just on their hectic way towards a decisive, seminal, and unique moment of humanity, but also towards the subsequent end of the classical world. The very spirit of their time speaks through their works, actions and theories. Homer’s union of myth, reason and human effort has inspired dramatists, sculptors, architects and poets for twenty-eight centuries. He was followed by other poets, including first, Hesiod, and Archilochos in the Aegean, and thereafter in the Greek world as it was shaped by colonization (Loukaki, 2016b), founding thus the Greek literary tradition throughout time, and its later Western equivalent. Poets were often philosophers and vice versa. Platonic circles explicitly believed that the first philosophers referred to Homer and Hesiod (Veikos, 2016). The comprehensiveness of Greek Logos, rarely found in the subsequent history of philosophy (Papaioannou, 2009, 145) is due to all the above. Homer’s epic poetry echoes archetypes originating in the Mycenaean Age of Heroes, but also the seeds of a new cosmogony. Homer used the word genesis in cosmological manner. His epics introduce noein, thinking, as an ontic and real energy, which captures an object in its wholeness: Noein and being-einai are identical in some ways, according to Veikos (2016). Others claim that Homer was the first to propel the Greek measure, metron, confidently representing collective determination to control gaping abyss. The bard also portrays, on the one hand, the restraining of aristocratic order by certain quasi-democratic decision-making forms. On the other, through the Ocean circling the Earth in the Iliad, Homer proposes a cosmological principle of general flow (Veikos, 2016, 19). In Hesiod, rational explanation emerges alongside mythical cosmogony.8 Sappho, a woman poet from the rich island of Lesbos stands at the very inception of lyric poetry and is the first female writer in any Indo-European language.9 Lyric poetry emerged in the Aegean with its own metric systems, vocabulary and secrets. Together with Archilochos from the island of Paros she revolutionized everything: she highlighted ordinary emotions and dreams, daring to speak of ‘personal’ life (more on this shortly), she changed metric aspects, she sang passions in different musical renditions, she danced, she replaced lengthy with small poetic units. However, the re-use of materials, Homer’s and older, was transmitted from epic to lyric poetry (Loukaki, 2016b). 8

The latter point in Veikos (2016). Hesiod had propelled the reassuring idea that Zeus is the absolute guarantor of justice. Conversely, Anaximander saw the divine kingdom as one of terror and arbitrariness (Veikos, 2016). 9 Besides literature and gender studies, a discipline developed in the 1970s, Sappho is also related to the ‘archaeology’ of the latter. Favouring a rather dry argumentation on patriarchy and power structures, gender studies avoided themes such as empowering processes in which both genders participated, like the Eleusinian Mysteries, the mythical and divine aspect of womanhood, or female archetypes like Antigone, Medea, Electra and Lysistrata (Loukaki, 2019).

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

25

The Aegean poetic tradition is uninterruptedly linked with the present Greek poetic tradition throughout three millennia, reaching the Nobel laureate Odysseus Elytis who saw himself as her descendant in terms of both the poetic craft and the shared geographical origin (ibid.). The capacity of Sappho’s poetic voice to instantly transpose her audience into her timespace, the cosmogonic atmosphere of a fresh and yet primordial world, the study of the effects and spatialities of love, intimacy with the divine, plus the close links with philosophy are, I would argue, among the reasons for her immense appeal for twenty seven long centuries. Sappho was born to an aristocratic family in the coastal town of Eressos. Local life appears to have been extremely sophisticated and rich. Free mores blended with religion-based institutions. Thinking and creating were obviously not exclusive male domains. Refined culture, including music, befitted Sappho’s social position and ideal of elegant splendour (ἁβροσύνη). Archaic Greece in at least Lesbos and Sparta developed a particular kind of female cultural spatialities of companionship and formation fully integrated into the social structure. Sappho delighted in life’s splendour and love of brilliance and beauty, but was also politically involved. Being a public thinker and creator was by no means an exclusively male domain at that time, especially for aristocratic women like Sappho. The Eleatic philosopher Parmenides10 even argued a little later that light predominates in women while in men darkness. Sappho was considered great by her contemporaries like Alcaeus of Mytilene, by later classical philosophers like Plato, who called her the tenth Muse, and by modernists like Ezra Pound.11 Already by the seventh century, Homer’s heroic perspective looked fundamental but archaic, indicating the immense dynamism of the times. The polis as an institution was now stronger, practically abolishing the necessary imaginary and mythical conditions for the epic and its heroes,12 though democracy had not yet prevailed. The deregulation of the previous value system was opening up the road to ‘modernism’ and the communal search for the role of individuals, not heroes. Moral and legal thought elaborated a sense of responsibility in accordance with a new feeling of justice, initiating an also new stage towards the conquest of freedom, social participation and democracy. Though the aristocratic ideal was still strong, Archilochos was incorporating theatrical and comical elements into his poetry, questioning the value of fame, immensely important to Homer, and commemorating hesitancy and military desertion, which could potentially shake the very foundations of society. A satirist, Archilochos took old apotropaic spells and turned them into badmouthing, offering himself as a community scapegoat. Tellingly, however, all his deviations could be endured (Loukaki, 2016b). Elea, also spelled Ὑέλη (Hyele), Roman Velia, ancient city in Lucania, Italy, about 25 miles southeast of Paestum, was home of the Eleatic school of philosophers, including Parmenides and Zeno. Source: https://www.britannica.com/place/Elea. 11 See Abou-El-Seoud (2016). 12 The polis functioned as an urban centre with its surrounding countryside but also as the city-state, the total of geographical territoriality, civic institutions, and as a particular set of social, cultural and political conditions. Both senses of the word were common throughout antiquity. 10

26

A. Loukaki

Commentators since Nietzsche (in The Birth of Tragedy) have been asking how objective is the archaic ‘I.’ How different is Sappho to present Western authors and their exclusive atomism? In other words, is Sappho a persona loquens (a face behind a mask) in monologues, or does she express generality? Distinction between a personal and ‘narrational’ ‘I’ as well as sophisticated withdrawal, necessary to explore psychic landscapes and to express deepest passions, indicate someone who was consciously participating in larger whole, the intelligentsia of her time. Sappho’s voice is not that of modern poets’ marked personality. However, the fused, sacred generality stirring emotional resonances and frisson during solemn rites, vaguely responds to the modern aesthetic category of the sublime, namely the divine. Sappho’s accomplishments bespeak as much an extraordinary talent, as the ingenuous appropriation of tradition and social moment. Her fragmented verses transpire a particular quality of space, not heroic, bloody and grandiose, like Homer’s, but somatic, intimate and fragile. The Greeks believed that light flows from the eyes, sharing in the sun’s essence. Sequences of reflections start off once her poetic prisms are lit by this ocular fire. In Sappho’s magnetic field, words and strophes convey the agony and spaces of love but also a spiritual and cosmic humanity (Loukaki, 2016b). Sappho goes beyond suaveness. She processes the world with the dialectical, critical and free spirit of her time. Intensely somatic she may be, summoning ‘her’ senses and soul while expressing amorous vertigo and jealousy-induced turmoil, but she can also be out of her senses and in her right mind, watching every response, emerging as a conscious and astute mistress of the poetic craft. She freezes while burning, recalling philosophical opposites such as dry earth and liquid water, hot fire and cold air, man and woman, competing for prevalence. Personal anguish is contrasted here to the departure of a friend to marry (Loukaki, 2016b)13 : Peer of the gods, the happiest man he seems Sitting before thee, rapt at thy sight, hearing Thy soft laughter and thy voice most gentle, Speaking so sweetly. Then in my bosom my heart wildly flutters, And, when on thee I gaze never so little, Bereft am I of all power of utterance, My tongue is useless. There rushes at once through my flesh tingling fire, My eyes are deprived of all power of vision, My ears hear nothing by sounds of winds roaring, And all is blackness. Down courses in streams the sweat of emotion, A dread trembling overwhelms me, paler am I Than dried grass in autumn, and in my madness Dead I seem almost. 13

Lobel-Page 31 / Voigt 31 / Gallavotti 2 / Diehl 2 / Bergk 2.

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

27

Cool control and close remoteness are a judicious synthesis involving interplays between passion and reason, both revived and summoned at will. Heat and cold is an essential cosmogonic duo proposed by Anaximander, of course. Sappho’s verses, like Homer’s, indicate how she steers and merges acoustic and evocative energies. Words are chosen for sheer melody and power, striking readers subcutaneously. Continuity between body and nature, the importance of light, the multiplicity of perspectives, the possibility to converse with the divine on equal terms, the complex importance of gardens, the appreciation of beauty in things and people alike do indicate the Homeric heritage. Yet horizons are closer, descriptions more sparing, stanzas briefer, gardens more intimate. True, she invented strict prosodies and exhibited a subtle sense of phrasing and of the sounds words make. She chose a quiet pitch to modulate vowels and consonants as close as linguistically possible to the experiences recited (Loukaki, 2016b). Her skill, admired by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Greek historian of Roman times, though not really translatable, is evidenced in any stanza. Reciprocity and equilibrium relate to the widespread demand for justice. However, in choosing words according to their sound, she follows Homer’s lead. Strophes acquire a prismatic, crystalline form. The music to which she sang them is gone, but the enchanting resonance remains. Images are sharp —the sparrows that draw Aphrodite’s chariot, the solitary red apple at the treetop. Like Homer, she quotes words of conversations, gaining immediacy. Linguistic metals and iconographic elements merge to awaken a world assimilated by the imagination. Like Homer, Sappho also focuses on details such as golden jewels, dwells on specifics of cloth and apparel, particularly colors, textures, perfumes; she manifests the connection between humans, natural rhythms, and admiration of beauty (ibid.).

3.3 Logos and Sappho’s Poetics Logos propelled Greek historical consciousness as theory advanced alongside praxis towards shaping this primordial world. As horizons and spatial imaginations were massively expanding after the eighth century BC through Greek colonies,14 cosmology, literature, meteorology, poetry, mathematics, sculpture, painting, architecture, politics, astronomy, geography, medicine, biology, astronomy, plus art and science applications, practical but also philosophically informed, like Hippodamian city planning15 progressed to the benefit of all citizens. Eros, politics, social class and 14

https://www.worldhistory.org/greek_colonization/. In contrast to the old, spontaneously developed cities, such as Athens, Sparta and Corinth, with the labyrinthine paths that follow land morphology with irregular blocks plus sacred and public buildings scattered randomly, the colonies of Miletus, the hometown of Hippodamos, as well as the new cities of Magna Grecia (South Italy and Sicily) are characterized by straight streets, regular building blocks and the central location of the public buildings and temples. Equal land distribution in the new homeland also refers to democratic uniformity. Hippodamos, continuing this tradition, shapes in urban terms a philosophical position for the rational organization of city life and the

15

28

A. Loukaki

religion also intertwined. These processes were registered in the new participatory spaces and in artistic vision, including space organization following the civilizing polis model, the spread of literacy by the seventh century, which altered the previous tradition through the introduction of a different kind of public and private memory, and theater. Pan-Hellenism was also strengthened through oracles like Delphi, the Olympic Games and the Homeric epics.16 These accomplishments were critical for the extraordinary development of Greek art and architecture. Sappho appears deeply familiar with the new philosophical and scientific thought. Speculations on creation circulated widely. She was contemporaneous with Thales of Miletus (c. 624–546 B.C.) and Anaximander (c. 610–546 B.C.), the first ‘real philosopher.’17 Greek science and philosophy long intertwined as contemplative search for the essence of the world; subsequent Greek philosophy was determined by the questions that Anaximander raised. Within a century, prosperous Miletus and Ephesus, both on the Asia Minor coast, also gave humanity Anaximenes (585– 528 B.C.) and Heraclitus (535–475 B.C.).18 Ionians appropriated clear, velvety night skies for their impressive astronomical observations. Granted, astronomical data were part of religious cults in other cultures, but in Greek poetry and philosophy, thought shifts from the imaginary realm and cosmological contemplation into earthly reality and back, to probe the cosmic materiality while empowering societies.19 A fervent intellectual atmosphere is discernible in both convergence and in disagreement. Starting with Anaximander, Logos emerges as a vital concept to classical Greeks,20 though it was not exclusively conceived by philosophy. Logos in Heraclitus and the other Presocratics is the oral expression of thought,21 but also the essential cosmic Law demarcating every entity to such lawful limits as to guarantee the existence of all others in order to preclude the tragic consequences of a-cosmia, such as the destructive arbitrariness of tyrants. Humans are the most extraordinary but also implementation in the urban space of the idea of equality, human measure and rational planning through the paradigm of the city of Piraeus, contributing to the smooth running of the city. Newer cities that followed the standard of Piraeus such as the Thurii, Rhodes, Abdera and Priene are essentially simple variations or improvements to the Piraeus model (Steinhauer, 2000). 16 Homeric poems were codified. Panhellenism was reflected in the rise to prominence of the Delphi oracle and the Panhellenic games. Colonies, particularly in Magna Grecia and Sicily, were thriving. 17 Plato knew Thales as one of the seven sages, as a practical astronomer and a geometer, capable of clever inventions for technical needs. This image is confirmed in Aristophanes but also in Diogenes Laertius. The latter, in his first book said that the Ionian Philosophy began with Anaximander; Diogenes Laertius found Thales wise but did not include him among philosophers. Philosophy was motivated by practical needs, yet there were also mystical trends at work in tandem, see https:// www.iep.utm.edu/thales/#H7. 18 The atomist Heraclitus from Ephesus superseded the limits of material monism and, maintaining an idea of a cosmogonic essence, put forward the deeper unity of things, in structure or ordering, to the point of ridiculing those who denied opening up themselves to the cosmic drama. 19 This clashed with Hesiod’s Theogony, though separation between earth and sky was a familiar idea since the latter’s time. 20 Logos (Moira-Necessity) under various guises constantly recurs among philosophical thought, at least up to Plato. 21 In Heraclitus and the other Presocratics.

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

29

most dangerous creatures as is clearly stated in Antigone.22 The sudden emergence of tragedy by late sixth century happened as the Athenian demos prepared to assume the destiny of the polis.23 The word θίασος (thiasos) acquired thespian connotations, though the theatrical nerve was already present by Sappho’s time; thiasos also meant a group of actors.

3.4 The Fragmentation Theme and Nature in Sappho Fragmentation is germane in the survival of Sappho’s poetic genius, as it is in the archaeological treasures so frequently recovered in Greece. Granted, fragmentation is a prevalent theme of modernity as the transitory, fleeting and fortuitous element, which also contains a sparkling flash of eternity, as Baudelaire first proposed (Loukaki, 2016b; Frisby 1986). Kouroi and korai, male and female archaic statues in various degrees of fragmentation plus other artifacts from her time are often excavated in Greece.24 Unlike Homer’s epics, which survive whole, Sappho’s strophes are mutilated, stanzas stand half, words are shattered. Her work has almost completely disappeared, surviving as it does through quotations in later ancient and Byzantine authors or papyrus fragments which are still sporadically recovered as scraps of books thrown out as rubbish in Oxyrhynhous, Egypt.25 From this near-incorporeality has miraculously risen the myth of a tangible figure surrounded by her thiasos, her chorus of girl initiates, a kind of higher school or Odeon, a congregation performing solemn rituals, a rite of passage from maidenhood to marriage. Names like Atthis, Gyrino, Goggyla, Mnasadika, Anactoria have reached us through these poetic fragments (Loukaki, 2016b).

22

Papaioannou (2000, 60) and Loukaki (2016b). In a cathartic manner according to Papaioannou ibid. Myth in tragedy resonates Logos as it indicates that human arbitrariness jeopardizes cosmic foundations (see Papaioannou, 2003, 115). 24 This indeed happened on the small Cycladic island Despotiko in the summer of 2011, see http:// www.ethnos.gr/article.asp?catid=22784&subid=2&pubid=63237202. Poet Giorgos Seferis (1981, 232) wrote of his own experience: Down towards the seashore the ruins all strewn on the ground apart from a few standing columns. I was told that, from the supernatural kouros of the isle of Naxos the body, one piece, and the pelvis, another piece, is in Artemision here; the hand, in the Delos museum; and the toes of the left foot with the base in the British Museum. This represents sufficiently well how many dispersed members one has to collect in one’s brain to form some knowledge of antiquity. 25 Williamson (1995, 48–49) tells in detail the story of the discovery of Sappho’s papyrus texts (among the Oxyrhynchus papyri), mentions the immense editing task necessary in the past, and assesses the possibility of recovering more fragments. Strabo in his Geography called her ‘a unique being: in the whole of history I can think of no other woman who can even remotely match her as a poet’ (cited in Schmidt, 2004, 211). 23

30

A. Loukaki

While reflecting the passage of time in Sappho’s, and our, contingent world, Sapphic poetic tesserae are a distilled essence of eternity. Her images exude primordial freshness, passionate participation in the cosmos,26 ecstatic vision and direct access to deep emotional recesses. Extant fragments haunt the imagination to emerge Sappho as a poet who followed, while transforming, poetic and intellectual traditions, sieving her stimuli through an intricate and sparkling spirit typical of her time. Nighttime summer skies are alive with twinkling stars plunging into sea horizons; dawn follows darkness, vibrant with natural aromas and girls’ perfumes; the sea rattles at night; birds chirp as if for the first time ever; flowers sparkle with dew, water is running through grass and twigs, falling from high up in gardens; the full moon lights exquisite thiasos vigils (Loukaki, 2016b, 72). Identification of nature with the divine, and ultimately with the human, -we inhabit a divine neighbourhood, said Heraclitus-, made it an utterly valuable object of contemplation (see Vegetti, 2000, 43–47) and of art. Though Sappho is typical of her time in this respect, to her nature is additionally an accomplice and participant in passion and erotic pain, but also a source of communal celebration and feast. In her poetry, the divine does coincide with nature, is expressed as natural phenomena, acts according to natural laws and lives in the cycles of natural changes (Loukaki, 2016b). Natural elements are summoned to participate in the intensity of self and group. Eressos lies in a fertile plane, which nourished the crops, lovely plants, herbs and flowers enclosing the Aphrodite sanctuary that Sappho’s thiasos visited27 : Here a horse-nourishing meadow blooms with spring flowers, and the winds blow gentle. In this place, you Kupris, taking up garlands pour nectar gracefully in golden cups and mix it with our festivities We are very far here from the Renaissance will for limitless power over nature and humans, expressed in Faustus, Prospero or Bacon, and tellingly expressed by the poet Christopher Marlowe in 1587/158828 : 26

To the Greeks ‘cosmos’ means simultaneously cosmic universe, ontological layout, wellgoverned polity, fair human relations and beauty; it also expresses the rounded character of Greek education (Papaioannou, 2003, 31). 27 ἐν δὲ λείμων ἰππόβοτος τέθαλεν ἠρίνοισιν ἄνθεσιν, αἰ δ᾽ ἄηται μέλλιχα πνέοισιν ἔνθα δὴ σὺ στέμ‹ματ᾽› ἔλοισα Κύπρι χρυσίαισιν ἐν κυλίκεσσιν ἄβρως ὀμ‹με›μείχμενον θαλίαισι νέκταρ 16οἰνοχόαισον. †τούτοισι τοῖς ἑταίροις ἐμοῖς γε καὶ σοῖς† Fr. 35 28 Marlowe’s Tamburlaine in Papaioannou (2000, 56–58).

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

31

Warring within our breasts for regiment Doth teach us all to have aspiring Minds: Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet’s course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres. Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of the earthly crown. Come, let us March against the powers of heaven And set black streamers in the firmament, To signify the slaughter of the gods. Ah friends, what shall I do? I cannot stand. Come carry me to war against the gods.

3.5 The Importance of Analogy Sappho uses nature as a strategic source of analogy, metaphors and comparisons between society and Logos. Geometric analogy was introduced in Thales’ intercept theorem or basic proportionality theorem. These themes were further explored by Parmenides of Elea but also in Plato’s Timaeus, two centuries after Sappho. Direct relation to the spirit of time, even announcing Parmenides was portrayed; relation between numbers and cosmos is founded here. Music and simple mathematical analogies were sources of harmony. Numbers were linked to the sense of space and expanse. In Timaeus the analogy between prototype and cosmos was explored (Veikos, 2016, 175). Rotation of heavenly bodies is considered by Plato the closest analogue to a clear thinking process. Similarity and analogy allow comparative flexibility and depth of thought (see Stafford, 2001). Figures of polarity and analogy, highly relevant in both poetry and philosophy, are arranged to achieve a gradation of visual and aural effects by means of poetic climax and anticlimax. The communal theme materializes as periodic evocation of the emotion, which both poet and audience share. In blending old and new Sappho, as indeed all ancient literary figures after Homer, bears witness to the underlying unity of epic and lyric. Her use of analogy is congruent with the ancient, participatory vision.29 In the sociopolitical field, metaphors and similes drawn from the realm of fauna and flora exemplify moral and political attitudes and modes of behavior

29

For in-depth analysis, see Loukaki (2016b).

32

A. Loukaki

(Gentili, 1990, 44–45); they announce the development of herbal medicine,30 and ascertain the new more intimate interest in nature.

3.6 The Cosmogonic Atmosphere in Sappho’s Poetry Of all stars the most beautiful O Hesperus, gathering everything the bright Dawn scattered, you call home the sheep, call home the goat, you call home the child to its mother31 A cosmogonic atmosphere is inexorably reflected in Sappho’s poetry which portrayed complex superimposed spatialities of various levels, terrestrial as well as heavenly. Community, both external and internal to her group, was symbolically anchored in space and cemented through ritual ceremonies performed by her circle. Dawn, sunset, midnight, the full moon in a starry sky enter language both as heavenly bodies and as beautiful living beings, part of a brimming, living universe: Αστέρων πάντων ο κάλλιστος… (the most beautiful of stars…). The starry sky was widely considered the most perfect expression of cosmos (Loukaki, 2016b). That cosmic energy was incessant was widespread knowledge. Religion infiltrated almost every aspect of Greek life. Thales, Sappho’s contemporary, said that ‘all is full of gods.’ Melissus (470–430) spoke after her of a living cosmos (see Veikos, 2016, 210). It was the poet and philosopher Anaximenes who attributed the moonlight to the sun, but Sappho immortalizes the image of maidens standing around an altar by moonlight: ‘the moon was shining at the full, and when they stood by the altar…’.32 The bright light of the thiasos remains intact whether girls are on Lesbos or in remote Lydia. Similes of the moon in sunset burgeon into the contemplation of a real moonlit landscape33 : 30 See the case of Theophrastus’s Enquiry into Plants or Historia Plantarum (Greek: Περὶ Φυτῶν Ιστορία, Peri Phyton Historia) who was, along with his mentor Aristotle’s History of Animals, Pliny the Elder’s Natural History and Dioscorides’s De Materia Medica, one of the most important books of natural history written in ancient times, influential in the Renaissance. 31 Ἀστέρων πάντων ὁ κάλλιστος Ἔσπερε πάντα φέρων ὄσα φαίνολις ἐσκέδασ᾽ αὔως, †φέρεις ὄιν, φέρεις αἶγα, φέρεις ἄπυ† μάτερι παῖδα. Lobel-Page104a 32 Fr. 53, and also mentioned in fr. 54. 33 ἀπὺ Σαρδίων... .... πόλλακι τυῖδε νῶν ἔχοισα ὤς ποτ’ ἐζώομεν·.... σε θέᾳ σ’ ἰκέλαν, Ἀριγνώτα σᾷ δἐ μάλιστ’ ἔχαιρε μόλπᾳ· νῦν δἐ Λύδαισιν ἐμπρέπεται γυναίκεσσιν ὤς ποτ’ ἀελίω δύντος ἀ βροδοδάκτυλος σελάννα;

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

33

]Sardis often turning her thoughts here ] you like a goddess and in your song most of all she rejoiced. But now she is conspicuous among Lydian women as sometimes at sunset the rosyfingered moon surpasses all the stars. And her light stretches over salt sea equally and flowerdeep fields. … But she goes back and forth remembering gentle Atthis and in longing she bites her tender mind Every word entwines us with the mysterious female figure we can only imagine through a refraction of revealed feelings. The players are three. Sappho sings to a girl about an old member of the group now gone to Lydia, possibly to marry. The object of yearning, away in Sardis, emerges thanks to an original technique: the monologue the poetess addresses to her interlocutor, externalizing the latter’s emotions. The moon now plays the role of active envoy, assisting tender emotions to reach the opposite shore and return back overnight, carried by a bridge of silver light and doubled by reciprocation, fated though they are as a reunion is next to impossible. Again, a heavenly body is summoned according to the spirit of time to interweave spatialities of love34 and movement. The moon is no stranger to the gone girl since, like it, she outshines all women in her new situation. Though the night with its thousands ears, a ‘νύξ πολύως,’ struggles to isolate the signal of her voice over the waves, her powerful light still travels back and forth (Loukaki, 2016b). Ripples of emotion, passionate but fated, evoke modern technology because they possess a ‘networking’ quality. Distance is compressed by memory, contemplation and anguished intuition; beauty, once reachable, is no more.35 The moral and aesthetic vision of sweetness and grace as ideals of love in Sappho’s time reflects not merely external beauty: ‘the beautiful is beautiful as long as it is visible, but if a man is worthy (agathos) he will soon be beautiful as well,’ said poet Anacreon (582 – c. 485 BC, fr. 50 V). πάντα παρρέχοισ’ ἄστρα φάος δ’ ἐπίσχει θάλασσαν ἐπ’ ἀλμύραν ἴσως καὶ πολυανθέμοις ἀρούραις· … πόλλα δὲ ζαφοίταισ’ ἀγάνας ἐπιμνάσθεισ’ Ἄθτιδος ἰμέρῳ λέπταν ποι φρένα κῆρ δ’ ἄσα βόρηται· Lobel-Page 96/Voigt 96/Diehl 98, Gentili (1990, 83). 34 In Sappho as in Anacreon, love is unrefusable (Gentili 1990, 91). It is the magic, inescapable power of a god who confuses and terrifies. 35 Human or natural beauty is reflection of divine beauty (Giebel 1990, 114).

34

A. Loukaki

Sappho masterfully motivates the power of her poetic imagination to instigate mental and emotional movement; she simultaneously triggers participation of the elements in human passionate landscapes as quasi-mastermind of cosmic events; simultaneously, she bespeaks philosophical beliefs in the human as focus and measure of everything, in the eternal cosmic motion, and in the close bond between humans and nature. The Pleiades is a favorite asterism. In Homer, they are depicted on the shield of Achilles, and are also present in Hesiod.36 During Sappho’s lifespan, the temple of Artemis Orthia in Sparta was oriented towards the ‘dancing’ Pleiades,’ associated with goddess Artemis.37 Girls’ light-celebrating rites took place there also. The setting of major heavenly bodies emanates a soft gloominess at the fleetingness of life and the corporeal decay of old age but with serenity and dignified detachment (see Gentili, 1990, 87), announcing the later Heraclitean πάντα ρεί (everything flows). The following fragment is about troubled love and solitude; nonetheless, a powerful sense of ephemerality pervades it, matched with Anaximander’s proposition that the night-day interplay as cosmological opposites is the most characteristic example of cosmic equilibrium and justice.38 The sinking moon has left the sky, the Pleiades have also gone. Midnight comes—and goes, the hours fly and solitary still, I lie.39

3.7 The Divine in the Poetic Sphere The thiasos’ eyes are fixed high above, alluding to the formative importance of the upward gaze to the Greeks, the development in consciousness it confers: άνθρωπος (human) is s-he who looks up (άνω θρώσκει). The reverse vertical movement happens when Aphrodite answers Sappho’s prayers. The goddess descends speedily from her golden heavenly abode in a sparrow-driven chariot to heal Sappho’s afflicted heart, bestowing beauty and solace upon her. 36

Hesiod equates the time of harvest to the time of their heliacal rising (the time when a star or constellation first becomes visible above the eastern horizon just before sunrise) and the time of sowing to the time of their setting (see Loukaki, 2016b). 37 During the geometric, archaic, and classical periods the festival honoring the goddess would have taken place around 22 May in the Gregorian calendar. The Pleiades rose at the time of the annual festival, around 20 to 25 of May. Since the Orion and the sun were calculated to be visible then from the Sparta temple, the whole cosmos appeared to participate. 38 Such as dry earth and liquid water, hot fire and cold air (Veikos 2016, 86 and elsewhere). 39 Δέδυκε μὲν ἀ σελάννα καὶ Πληίαδες· μέσαι δὲ νύκτες, παρὰ δ’ ἔρχετ’ ὤρα, ἔγω δὲ μόνα κατεύδω Diehl 94/Voigt 168b/Cox 48

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

35

Ornate-throned immortal Aphrodite, beguiling daughter Of Zeus, I entreat you: do not overpower my heart, mistress, With ache and anguish, but come here, if ever in the past you heard my voice from afar and acquiesced and came, leaving your father’s golden house, with chariot yoked: beautiful swift sparrows whirring fastbeating wings brought you above the dark earth down from heaven through the mid-air…40 This unprecedented, affectionate scene of divine epiphany brims with unusual features and may reflect a specific ceremonial at a sacred location. Parmenides, after Sappho, proposed a revised Logos/Dike, namely a divine power, most probably Aphrodite, governing all, including the sexual union. Meeting with gods presupposed entering their sacred time–space. God only briefly honors worshippers’ community; it is the community lifted up to enter the divine realm, therefore spatiotemporal separation from the mundane sphere is a ritual fundamental. Divine anthropomorphism matched by human dignity contributed to this ‘democratic’ exchange in the epics.41 Sappho, though, was considered a holy (hagne) priestess, a closer friend of the Muses and the gods,42 especially Aphrodite.43 Poet Alcaeus pays a reverent tribute to her sacral dignity as ministrant of Aphrodite and to the gracious beauty her role as love’s priestess conferred upon her (Gentili, 1990, 221). This explains the audacity with which she addresses Aphrodite. As in Homer and in Hesiod,44 divine ποικιλόθρον’ ἀθανάτ’ Ἀφρόδιτα, παῖ Δίος δολόπλοκε, λίσσομαί σε· μή μ’ ἄσαισι μηδ’ ὀνίαισι δάμνα, πότνια, θῦμον, ἀλλὰ τυίδ’ ἔλθ’, αἴ ποτα κἀτέρωτα τὰς ἔμας αὔδας ἀίοισα πήλοι ἔκλυες, πάτρος δὲ δόμον λίποισα χρύσιον ἦλθες ἄρμ’ ὐπασδεύξαισα· κάλοι δέ σ’ ἆγον ὤκεες στροῦθοι περὶ γᾶς μελαίνας πύκνα δίννεντες πτέρ’ ἀπ’ ὠράνω ἴθερος διὰ μέσσω· … 1D,191P 41 It is within the context of this anthropomorphism that we can discover one of the roots of reflections on history by Greek thinkers, both early and highly sophisticated. Human acts bring about catastrophes, marked not only by mythology but also by the art of the early Greeks, above all tragedy (Janko 1997). 42 Sappho said to a local woman who did not belong to her thiasos that death would bring her oblivion in both the realm of Hades and the world of men; yet she evidently hoped for a better afterlife for her own circle. Such hopes were entertained because of the close bonds she maintained with gods and particularly with the Muses (Gentili 1990). 43 Friedrich (1978) in The Meaning of Aphrodite explores the importance of Aphrodite for eighth and seventh century BC Greek poetry, particularly that of Homer and Sappho. 44 Hesiod had a vision of the Muses on Helicon. 40

36

A. Loukaki

assistance indicates celestial favoritism (Sinos, 1998). However, in Sappho no heroic deed or pending catastrophic event is necessary for an epiphany like it is in Iliad and Odyssey (Loukaki, 2016b). Divine epiphanies in the Greek world function as both literary conventions and as records of personal experience. Epiphanies and dream visions in both Homer and Sappho allow us to probe the ancient unconscious as they share origin and psychological structure. Sappho’s Aphrodite is not remote and disengaged. Like Homer’s gods, Aphrodite assists and protects. Here, though, the participatory theme intensifies. Aphrodite’s attitude is gentle, intimate, almost that of a favorite friend (Gentili, 1990, 85). Both Sappho and Homer’s heroes draw the divine into their sphere. While Sappho addresses the divine as her amorous accomplice (Loukaki, 2016b), Homer’s heroes do so as life guardian, omen, source of reassurance or motivation or fellowwarrior (see Dietrich, 1983). Sappho’s and Homer’s metaphysics are not identical, then. She addresses goddesses, asks and receives support not as a plaything in their hands, however dignified, the way mighty Homeric heroes were, but as a ministrant and friend. The divine appears in human, animal or bird form in Homer (ibid.), in human form in Sappho. In Homer, the heroic body and spatialities of performance are paramount; Athenian tragedy crystallizes spatialities of participation, which transformed Dionysian ecstasy into collective freedom. Sappho, however, explores the bonds between the human body and the astral universe, merging poetic tradition, her own craft, social skills, geographic, emotional, scientific and philosophical awareness, as well as her intense religious universe. Archaic and classical Greeks share, despite their deep sense that the cosmic and human realm alike are fleeting and volatile, space as the steady seat of sacredness and social participation, and nature as an immediate aspect of the human condition, both personal and collective.

Bibliography Abou-El-Seoud, E. (2016). A study guide for Sappho’s fragment 34 (Poetry for Students, vol. 44. Project editor S. Constantakis). Gale. Cassirer, E. (1955). The philosophy of symbolic forms, vol. 2, Mythical thought. Yale University Press. Devare, A. (2016). Exploring past myths through Giambattista Vico and Jyotiba Phule. Contexto International, 38(3). http://www.scielo.br/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S010285292016000300763 Dietrich, B. C. (1983). Divine epiphanies in Homer. Numen, 30(1), 53–79. Dodds, E. R. (1951). The Greeks and the irrational. University of California Press. Dossey, L. (2010). The science of premonitions: How knowing the future can help us avoid danger (Kindle ed.). Amazon.com Services. Einstein, A. (2011). Out of my later years: The scientist, philosopher, and man portrayed through his own words. Philosophical Library/Open Road. Friedrich, P. (1978). The meaning of Aphrodite. The University of Chicago Press. Frisby, D. (1988). Fragments of Modernity. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

3 Sappho’s (630–570) Poetics and the Science of Her Time

37

Gentili, B. (1990). Poetry and its public in Ancient Greece: From Homer to the fifth century. Johns Hopkins University Press. Giebel, M. (1990). In Gr. Sappho. Plethron. Gregory, A. (2013). The Presocratics and the supernatural: Magic, philosophy and science in Early Greece. Bloomsbury. Janko, J. (1997). Two conceptions of the world in Greek and Roman thought: Cyclicity and degeneration. In M. Teich, R. Porter, & B. Gustaffson (Eds.), Nature and society in historical context (pp. 18–36). Cambridge University Press. Jin, Y. (2020). Tao, Nature and Man. Springer. Kakridis, I., & Roussos, E. (Eds.). (2021). Greek mythology (vols. 1–3). Ta Nea. Kirk, G. S., Raven, J. E., & Schofield, M. (2006). The presocratics. Educational Foundation of National Bank. Loukaki, A. (1997). Whose genius loci? Contrasting interpretations of the ‘sacred rock of the Athenian Acropolis.’ Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 87(2), 306–329. Loukaki, A. (2016a). Living ruins, value conflicts (1st ed., 2008). Routledge. Loukaki, A. (2016b). The geographical unconscious (1st ed., Ashgate, 2014). Routledge. Loukaki, A. (2019). In Gr. The ‘move’ of the city and moral dilemmas in ancient heritage protection: The case of Knossos. In Proceedings of the 12th international congress of Cretan studies, 21–26.09.2016. https://12iccs.proceedings.gr/en/proceedings/category/38/34/395 Loukaki, A. (2019). In Gr. Archetypal matriarchal space and present-day perspectives: The female element in Eleusinian sacred spatialities. In A. Afouxenidis, S. Gialis, Th. Iosifides, & E. Kourliouros (Eds.), Geographies in a liquid epoch-Critical essays for space, society, and culture in honour of Lila Leontidou (pp. 420–443). Propobos. McKirahan, R. D., Jr. (1994). Philosophy before Socrates. Hacket Publishing. Miller, A. J. (2002). Einstein, Picasso: Space, time, and the beauty that causes havoc. Basic Books. Morgan, K. A. (2000). Myth and philosophy from the Presocratics to Plato. Cambridge University Press. Pantermalis, D. (2018). In Gr. Eleusis-The 2018 Exhibition. The Acropolis Museum Editions. Papaioannou, K. (1995). In Gr. Humans and their shadow. Enallaktikes Ekdoseis. Papaioannou, K. (2000). In Gr. Cosmos and history. Greek cosmology and western eschatology. Enallaktikes Ekdoseis. Papaioannou, K. (2003). In Gr. Mass and history. Enallaktikes Ekdoseis. Papaioannou, K. (2004). In Gr. from the Ancient Greek to the European Humanism. University of Piraeus. Papaioannou, C. (2009). Art and Civilization in Ancient Greece. Athens: Alternative Editions. Papaioannou, K. (2016). In Gr. Philosophical essays. Enallakikes Ekdoseis. Schmidt, M. (2004). The first poets. Weidenfeld and Nicolson. Seferis, G. (1981). In Gr. Straying from Homeric Hymns. In Dokimes (vol. II, pp. 217–248). Ikaros. Sinos, R. H. (1998). Divine selection: Epiphany and politics in archaic Greece. In C. Dougherty, & L. Kurke (Eds.), Cultural poetics in archaic Greece: Cult, performance, politics (pp. 73–91). Oxford University Press. Stafford, B. M. (2001). Visual analogy-consciousness as the art of connecting. The MIT Press. Steiner, G. (2007). In Gr. Nostalgia for the absolute (1st ed. 1974). Agra. Steinhauer, G. (2000). In Gr. Ancient Piraeus. The city of Themistocles and Hippodamos. In G. A. Steinhauer, S. A. Malikouti, & V. Tsokopoulos (Eds.), Piraeus centre of shipping and culture (pp. 8–123). Ephessos. Strubenhoff, M. (2018). The positivism dispute in German sociology, 1954–1970. In History of European Ideas, 44(2), 60–276. Vamvacas, C. J. (2009). The founders of western thought—The Presocratics: A Diachronic parallelism between Presocratic thought and philosophy and the natural sciences. Springer. Vegetti, M. (2000/2003). History of ancient philosophy (10th ed.). Travlos. Veikos, Th. (2016). In Gr. The Presocratic philosophy. Gutenberg, Athens Williamson, M. (1995). Sappho’s immortal daughters. Harvard University Press.

38

A. Loukaki

Argyro Loukaki is Professor of Greek Art, Architecture and Urban Planning at the Hellenic Open University (HOU). She is the recipient of a scholarship from the Greek State Scholarship Foundation, of an Oxford prize, and of a Princeton fellowship. Her books include Mediterranean Cultural Geography and Aesthetics of Development: The Case of Rethymnon, Crete (Kardamitsa 2007/ 2009), Living Ruins, Value Conflicts (Ashgate 2008, Routledge 2016), The Geographical Unconscious (Ashgate 2014, Routledge 2016), Art and Space in Crisis-Hit Greece (Leimon 2018, coedited with Dimitris Plantzos), Urban Art and the City: Creating, Destroying, and Reclaiming the Sublime, Routledge 2021 (editor, chapter, Introduction, Conclusions), Islands of the Ancient Sea: Aesthetics, Landscape & Modernity (in press, Bloomsbury), On Monumentality (co-edited with S. Alifragkis, in press, Cambridge Scholars Publishing), Space, Art and Architecture Between East and West: The Revolutionary Spirit (in press, Cambridge Scholars Publishing).

Chapter 4

New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time? Chelsea C. Harry

Abstract This chapter considers Sappho of Lesbos an early philosopher of time. It compares the use of temporal markers, especially “now” (nun) in Sappho’s poetry to Aristotle’s usage of the same term in the context of his treatise on time in Physics IV.10–14. Likewise, it looks at Aristotle’s analysis of phantasia in De Anima III and in the Parva Naturalia as well as Eva Stehle’s reading of Sappho’s Tithonos poem to suggest ways that both Aristotle and Sappho account for an ability to experience the past, what was “once” (pota), in the present, now. The chapter concludes that Sappho, like Aristotle, was a thinker primarily engaged with the existence and experience of natural beings and, as such, of the ways natural beings primarily act and interact with each other in the world. From such an engagement developed a theory of time. Sappho may have been a hidden influence on Aristotle’s understanding of the relationship between being, beings, and time; nevertheless, her poetry is instructive to all of us still grappling with these issues today.

In her article, “‘Once’ and ‘Now’: Temporal Markers and Sappho’s SelfRepresentation” (2009), Eva Stehle considers the significance of the terms nun (now) and pota (once) in the Thalia and Tithonos poems attributed to the ancient Greek lyric poet, Sappho of Lesbos. According to Stehle, Sappho deploys these terms in her poetry in an effort to position herself between the past and future. At certain lines in the poems, e.g., 16 V, 22 V, direct speech indicates Sappho’s attention both to the “time now,” and to the opportunity to recall the past in the present moment. Stehle’s analysis of temporal markers in Sappho is intriguing to the history and philosophy of science, as the first known treatment of time (chronos) does not occur until nearly three hundred years later, in Aristotle’s Physics (IV 10–14). Prior to Aristotle, in lieu of sustained articulations or explanations of the meaning of time, we see only brief mentions of it, e.g., in Plato’s Timaeus (37d–38b) and in the descriptions C. C. Harry (B) Southern Connecticut State University, New Haven, CT, USA e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_4

39

40

C. C. Harry

of transmigration of the souls in Pythagorean and Empedoclean fragments, likely inspired by allusions to temporal markers in Homer and Hesiod. On my reading, the “now” for Aristotle is the cornerstone of his examination of time, as it represents the real subject of inquiry in Aristotle’s natural science: natural beings themselves and the ways these beings change as a course of living. In this chapter, I begin with Stehle’s deft analysis of Sappho’s temporal markers and then use this as a starting off point to demonstrate a likeness found in the Stagerite’s historically famous treatise on time, but also in his ideas about perception and phantasia. I then conclude that we do find an early theory of time in Sappho, one that anticipated some of Aristotle’s insights about the relationship between being and time.

4.1 Stehle on Sappho’s Temporal Markers Perhaps Dudley Fitts put it best when, in the foreword to Mary Barnard’s celebrated 1994 translations of Sappho’s fragments, he said: “We have heard a great deal about Sappho, and we know almost nothing” (1994, xvi). Any reader of Sappho must contend not only with the difficulties associated with the transmission of her texts over time, but also the very lack of intact verses from her corpus. Nevertheless, as Fitts also points out, it is clear that there was consistency among ancient writers that Sappho was an important poet and there was a sort of reverence among those who spoke of her.1 Barnard thus translated Sappho from this place of respect, exposing the sharp details present in her poetry rather, according to Fitts, than the melody or something ornamental. The gift that Barnard gives us, among other things, is a new way to consider Sappho—not as a “lesbian” or even as a lyricist, but rather, as a thinker.2

1

Cf. André Lardinois and Diane J. Rayor points out that even in antiquity it was the erotic content of Sappho’s poems and songs that were best known (2014, 5) and Thomas McEvilley remarks that Sappho’s poems and songs are cut off from space and time; their modality is the “hypothetical real” where “nature counts as a foil to emotional events” and not biological needs but the longing of desire exists (2008, 24–25). Compare these still with Page duBois’s observation that Sappho is the first poet to use the first person pronoun, suggesting that her poetry and also emotional and inner life is nothing but here, now, and real (1998, 13). 2 Cf. Jenkins in Chandler (1998, iv): “This sense of a small, shining perfection is enhanced by what is genuinely part of her verse’s character, a direct and lucid lyricism. She does not preach or argue or deal in complex or difficult ideas.”

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

41

Nearly twenty years later, Eva Stehle looked to the so-called “New Sappho” with the same serious lens.3 For Stehle, Sappho discloses certain temporal commitments in her poetry, and Stehle finds it analytically worthwhile to study these commitments. In Stehle’s own words: “the new Sappho inspires me to reexamine the articulation of time in her poetry. What I find is that ‘once’ is an imaginary time of mythic, erotic plenitude, and “now” is a time of performative speech that, among other things, looks forward to the heroization of the poet. In other words, Sappho as speaker presents herself as poised between two eras when she is close to divinity” (2009). Stehle goes on to give the caveat that her reading is subjective and sometimes depends on relatively little context. Nevertheless, she imagines fruit borne from the exercise of tracing the apparition and usage of temporal markers in Sappho’s “Thalia” (Köln 21351) and “Tithonos” (Köln 21376 and 58i) poems, markers that she observes occur with “unusual density” in these two poems.4 Stehle divides her analysis between the two temporal markers. Whereas, “Pota is unaccented and indefinite, unlocated in calendric chronology,” Stehle contrasts that with, “nun is definite, emphatic, close at hand” (ibid.). In the rest of this section, I will explicate Stehle’s reading of temporal markers in The New Sappho. Stehle begins with pota. Referring to lines 11, 14, and 17 of the Tithonos poem, she explains that while 11 and 14 refer to Sappho’s past, 17 refers to Tithonos’s mythic past. Taking note of the parallel Sappho draws between her own past, or youth, and Tithonos’s, Stehle then finds an analogue to Sappho 16 i, where Sappho also parallels a myth to her own past. In 16 i, as Stehle observes, the parallel is between the mythic separation of Helen from her lover and then Sappho’s past separation from her love, Anaktoria, which she now recalls. “Thalia” (Köln 21351).5 I pray now (nun) festivity beneath the earth having, as is right, the prize of honor as now (nun) being on the earth 3

“New Sappho” refers to the Sappho of poems found at the University of Cologne in 2004 and attributed to Sappho of Lesvos: “In 2004 a manuscript containing fragments of three poems by the Greek poet Sappho, one previously unknown, was discovered at the University of Cologne. As Martin West pointed out the following year in a TLS article that included the “new” Greek original and West’s own English translation, only sixty-three of her 264 surviving poems contain any complete lines, only twenty-one any complete stanzas and only three had been complete enough to appreciate as literary structures. The new discovery brought that number to four” (https://www. the-tls.co.uk/articles/public/fragments-from-sappho/). These poems were not assigned fragment numbers; rather, they are simply called “The New Sappho” (McEvilley, 2008, 543). 4 As is the case with various thinkers whose works are largely lost to us today, especially works by women in the history of philosophy and science, putting in the work to better understand the texts we do have is becoming an increasingly attractive option, even when it involves speculation, rather than ignoring the thinker altogether. 5 Translations from Lombardo (2016, 28–29).

42

C. C. Harry

is taking up the clear-toned lyre I sing at a wedding party “Tithonos” (Köln 21376 and 58i) Violet-robed Muses’ gifts, girls, the clear-toned, melodious lyre. My skin once (pota) soft, but age now (nun) my black hair has become My heart is heavy, and my knees will not carry me, though once (pota) they were light as fawn’s in the dance. I lament this constantly, but what can be done? There is no way for a human not to grow old. They always said rose-armed Dawn loved Tithonus And took him away, a beautiful young boy, To the edge of the world. But in time (pota?) grey old age seized him, even though he slept with an immortal. 16 i Some say an army on horseback, some say on foot, and some say ships are the most beautiful things on this black earth, but I say it is whatever you love. It’s easy to show this. Just look at Helen, beautiful herself beyond anything human, and she left her perfect husband and went sailing off to Troy without a thought for her child or her dear parents, led astray who reminding me of Anactoria who is gone and whose lovely walk and bright, shimmering face I would rather see than all the chariots and armed men in Lydia. Sappho’s Tithonos poem begins with a contrast between things that people argue over being objectively beautiful and what is actually most beautiful to each person: what s/he loves. Stehle points out that in 16 i, the parallel between Helen and Sappho includes that each have lost their loves, something Stehle notes remains implicit in the actual poem. This is to say as well that each has lost what is most beautiful to her. For Stehle, “It is as though Sappho’s story is the continuation and completion of Helen’s story. Thus, in the deep structure of her poem, Sappho creates a temporal alignment that does not separate the mythic time of Helen from her own past but rather separates lovers together from lovers parted” (ibid.). The context is not as important as the separation, and the love is now only remembered and no longer encountered. Stehle contrasts mythic time from nun time, seemingly intending mythic time now not just to refer to Helen’s time, but to the past as it is remembered and come alive for the present in the lover’s mind: “In mythic time a female lover (Helen or Sappho)

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

43

can choose her love and experience intimacy, whereas nun (for Helen and Sappho) is the time when the conventional social structure has intervened.” In nun time, everything but the beloved exists —e.g., there are the chariots and armed men in Lydia; there are parents and a child. In mythic time, the beloved becomes present in memories. Stehle suggests that we take this reading of 16 i and apply it to an interpretation of the Tithonos poem. According to her analysis: “It presents a similar temporal divide: ‘once’ a goddess chose the young, beautiful Tithonos as her love. But in this case it is human feebleness, not the social structure, which intervenes: Tithonos grows old. What is left implicit this time is that Eos abandoned Tithonos and that Sappho was once the intimate of a goddess, Aphrodite surely” (ibid.). For Stehle, mythic time is time of the past; for Sappho, it “extends up to her own youth and past loves.” Stehle next turns to Sappho’s well-known I V poem, first citing the second stanza: “But come here, if also once at another time (ai pota k’aterota), hearing my words from afar, you listened […]”; and then showing that here, “Sappho opens the gates of memory, through which floods the picture of Aphrodite’s past arrival(s) in her sparrow-chariot […]” before contrasting that with the final stanza (line 25), where Sappho demands: “Come to me now also […]” (ibid.). Stehle thus shows us here another instance of contrast between pote and nun, or mythic time and present time. Stehle looks at 1 V, 16 i, and the Tithonos poem, synthesizing these similar contrasts and concluding: “Eos snatching Tithonos, Aphrodite leading Helen to Troy, and Aphrodite coming to Sappho to promise her erotic fulfillment all occupy the indefinite past time” (ibid.). Stehle closes her analysis of pota in the Tithonos poem concluding that “pota signals the mythic time of female choice, erotic plenitude, and youth,” and then again contrasting that with nun, which she understands to be for Sappho not only the time of limitations, or reality, but also the time of remembering itself and emphatic speech (ibid.). Nun is simultaneously the time that is no-longer the indefinite past, the time when the past can be recalled, and also the time when desires can be uttered. This latter expression is what Stehle considers, “a self-conscious measuring of the distance at which Sappho stands from the desired past” (ibid.). On this point, I am going to quote Stehle at length: In recalling mythic time Sappho is like a bard bringing the lost heroic past to light again through memory. But she is a bard for whom the memory and loss are personal as well as mythic, so she does not just recite. She groans, wishes, prays for the return of divine presence, or acknowledges its impossibility with a resigned rhetorical question. While, as bard, she tells us about that past, she presents herself as wishing to re-experience it herself. This combination of mythic grandeur and personal investment is one source of Sappho’s poetic power. But we cannot speak simply of Sappho’s recapturing memory; she reshapes it into a different kind of past, emotionally absolute, supremely vivid, and now accessible only through poetry—like myth. In other words, the temporal divide gives Sappho’s poetry its monumentality. (ibid.)

Stehle reads Sappho as making the past newly present by way of her memory and her interactions with her memories. In making what once was present newly present, Sappho effectually creates a new present for herself. Her re-experience becomes a continually new experience.

44

C. C. Harry

Stehle next looks to the Thalia (festivity) poem to research further Sappho’s use of nun. The term appears twice in this poem, famously in the opening line, nun thalia (“now festivity […],” 3). Stehle reasons that Sappho “may have been making a declarative statement, or, as in other poems in which nun is the time of performative speech, she may be asserting that festivity should occur now.” In declaration, what is declared is present, but here we see Stehle suggest that Sappho’s nun is modal and oriented toward the future; it is something that should occur. According to Stehle’s analysis: “At the same time, in the extant lines, at least, these references to “now” do not contrast with the past; instead, they offer a model for the future. As artist, Sappho is concerned with her status in future time, so her performative speaking in this context predicts the heroizing of the poet Sappho rather than recalling the mythic lover Sappho” (ibid.). The future comes into play, for Stehle, in Sappho’s Thalia poem because, here, Sappho seems to ask for honor, indeed to be heroized, on the basis of the way she lived her life in the mythic past. With support from verses in 65 V, Stehle concludes: In the future her ‘now’ of song and the ‘once’ of the mythic experience that it records will be united when future generations marvel at her vivid re-imagining of her interactions with Aphrodite and experience of female erotic subjectivity…Her declaration, ‘now thalia,’ may therefore be a proclamation that festivity—the festivity with which she should be honored in the future—is to start now. (ibid.)

In this context, “now,” becomes the time of Sappho’s time on Earth and of her singing, a reference perhaps to Tithonos and his singing, as Stehle points out, and/or possibly an allusion to the practice of festivity itself. For Stehle, the New Sappho discloses a temporal order: from a recalled indefinite past to a projected or wished for future, where both the recollection and the projection occur now, in the present.

4.2 Aristotle on Perception, Re-perception, and Time For although our grasp of the eternal things is but slight, nevertheless the joy which it brings is, by reason of their excellence and worth, greater than that of knowing all things that are here below; just as the joy of a fleeting and partial glimpse of those whom we love is greater than that of an accurate view of other things, no matter how numerous or great they are. But inasmuch as it is possible for us to obtain more and better information about things here on earth, our knowledge of them has the advantage here over the other […] —Aristotle, Parts of Animals I.5 (644b32–645a2)

The introduction to Aristotle’s famous “Invitation to Biology”, given as an epigraph above, reminds me of Sappho’s Thalia poem. I see a possible Sapphic influence in Aristotle as I recognize one of the themes explored through the poetic tropes already explored: sating our desires for what we find beautiful, even if in a microscopic quantity is always preferred to a lot of what is merely present to us. Here, Aristotle goes on to make the argument that what is here “now,” however, is desirable not because we have a personal desire or eros for it, but rather because it is present and

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

45

in abundance. He encourages us to see the beauty in all things and not simply in what is “divine.” This ends up being the first argument for the study of biology and, in particular, zoology, in the history of Western philosophy and science. Aristotle’s emphasis on and commitment to the “now” does not stop with this passage. It is apparent both in his various work on perception as well as in his famous Treatise on Time, Physics IV: 10–14. Aristotle’s Metaphysics famously opens with the following declaration: All men naturally desire knowledge. An indication of this is our esteem for the senses; for apart from their use we esteem for their own sake, and most of all the sense of sight. Not only with a view to action, but even when no action is contemplated, we prefer sight, generally speaking, to all the other senses. The reason of this is that of all the senses sight best helps us to know things, and reveals many distinctions. (980a22–26)

Aristotle here notes not only the same desire to know that is implicit in his “Invitation to Biology”, discussed above, but also delight in sensory activity that he paints to be universal in its reach. If we as humans desire to know, and if we delight in sensory experience, in particular seeing, then it follows that whatever is present to us plays an important role not only in our daily satisfaction, but also in our lives qua living beings. What is here, “now,” has a real significance for who we are. But, Aristotle continues in the opening lines of the Metaphysics, to add: “Now animals are by nature born with the power of sensation, and from this acquire the faculty of memory, whereas others do not” (980a26–28). So, while “now” is important to all animals, memory, or “once” is likewise important to some as well. As I will discuss shortly, this “once” is a derivative of the “now.” Only because it was once, “now,” or only because it was once perceived, can it now be re-perceived as “once.” We see already part of the temporal trajectory expressed by Sappho in her poetry, and noted by Stehle. In Aristotle’s analytic of time in the Physics, he lays the ground for which I have argued elsewhere is a non-temporal explanation of the “now.”6 This is to say that Aristotle’s actual definition of time, which is the number of kinesis with respect to before and after, depends on whatever “before” and “after” refer to. The motion or change undergone by something such that it has a “before” and an “after” that can be enumerated means that “before” and “after” correspond to natural being undergoing that kind of predicative change inherent to their very being as substantial natural beings. For this reason, I have likewise argued that Aristotle was never trying to be a philosopher of time, but rather, he was a philosopher of living beings interested in kinesis only because he is interested in the being of natural beings —he defines nature as the inherent ability for self-motion and rest. On my reading, then, “before” and “after,” which allows for time, are common nouns to name “nows” in terms of a teleological or spatial position. What this is all meant to say is that even as he writes an analytic of time, Aristotle is really writing part of a discussion of “now,” where “now” names the beings that are present to perception.

6

For example in Harry (2015).

46

C. C. Harry

In the Metaphysics, the Physics, and indeed across Aristotle’s works in natural science, we see careful attention to “now,”7 but also a recognition of the importance of “once,” as it is derived from “now”. Let me discuss these claims a bit more in depth by taking us through some of Aristotle’s arguments in these texts. First, I want to look at De Anima III.3 (428b–429a), where we find Aristotle’s positive account of phantasia,8 typically translated “imagination,” but on my reading it means something more akin to re-perception. In this account, Aristotle argues that phantasia is held to be (dokei) a movement (kinesis), which can be true or false and exists along with sensation in, of course, creatures endowed with a sensitive soul (428b10–16). That Aristotle considers imagining a movement or kinesis, tells us something about its character. Movements for Aristotle begin and end in actuality. They are oriented toward an end or fulfillment (telos). They are finite and measured by time vis-à-vis Aristotle’s natural science (see, for example, Aristotle’s treatises on motion and time in Physics III.1 and IV10–14, respectively). Movements are different from activities (energeiai), which are complete in every moment and yet unending. In the case of imagining, the imagining is happening as concrete and goal oriented but in tandem with sensation,9 which is, qua faculty, an activity and yet involves motions as part of the actual exercise of the faculty (see, for example, De sensu 438b5 where Aristotle talks about the motion that produces vision). This is to say, that phantasia or imagining seem to be a type of movement as part of the perceptive activity. This account is supported by Aristotle’s treatise On Dreams in his Parva naturalia. In On Dreams, he identifies dreams as belonging to the sensitive faculty, but qua imaginative (458a23), and then explains that dreaming happens in the absence of perception, producing images as reverberations or iterations of previous sensations. He likens dream production to the movement of projectiles insofar as that which is moved stays in movement even after its original mover has lost contact (459a25– 30). He likewise compares it to heat, which can be transferred from an original heat source to surrounding objects even in the absence of the original source, before transitioning the analogy to actual perception, where the motions involved in the activity of continuous sight—for instance, after having looked at the sun and subsequently having closed our eyes, we are still seemingly able to see the sun (459b).10 The point here is that even after the original object of perception has disappeared from our ability to perceive it, we are then able to perceive the perception—for example,

7

Even in the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle’s argument in book I for an attainable good points to his interest in that which is possible now. 8 Aristotle’s treatment of phantasia here is the first in Western thought (see Schofield, 1995). 9 See Davis (2011, 38): Phantasia thus seems to be a movement that has its origin in the energeia, the activity, of sensing. This does not mean that every sensing being will have the faculty of imagination but rather that phantasia will somehow be the natural fulfillment of a tendency built into sensation. 10 Watson (1982, 103) notes that Aristotle here tells us that perception is a type of qualitative change (αλλo´ ` ιωσ´ις τις) and Watson interprets Aristotle to be suggesting here that phantasia allows the effects of sensation to remain in the sense organs.

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

47

when we “re-see” the sun with our eyes closed (460a1–5 and 460b1–5). These occur as discreet movements, part of a wider activity of continuous perception.11 Aristotle closes his analytic of phantasia in De anima III.3 with a bit of etymology—looking at the word origin: phantasia’s relation to phaos (light). He mentions the superlative value of sight and sight’s connection to light; light is requisite for sight (429a4). We likewise may recognize that phanai is the infinitive of phemi (to say or affirm) and the aorist infinitive of phaino (to bring to light or cause to appear) (Davis 44, fn 18). We might take from this lesson that imagining allows for a special kind of sight—for a re-seeing, as it were, of what we have already seen.12 Taken together with the support from earlier in Aristotle’s analytic of phantasia and his work on dreams, that phantasia is a type of movement in the activity of perception, phantasia looks to be an opportunity for us to re-perceive, thus not wholly imagine, sense data. Through the process of sensation, the sensible object becomes assimilated by the sense organ via the sensitive soul so that unlike (subject-object) becomes like (subject and its perception) (418a4–5). In this way, Aristotle explains how the sensible object acting upon the sensitive soul via the sense organ exercises an important natural function (417a15). With the aid of phantasia, “seeing” happens even when a given external object is no longer present. Interpreters of Aristotle have noted the extra-perceptive functions of phantasiai. For example, according to Davis, “With phantasia, the ‘ownness’ of soul emerges; that is, its experience of its own ownness” (2011, 47). Recalling Aristotle at 427b17– 20, Caston writes that phantasia functions in such a way that we can call up images as we wish, and that phantasia does not require that we accept its content as true or false (1996, 45). Polansky reminds us that, “Phantasia may contribute to interpretation, but phantasia itself is presentational and representational rather than discriminating or evaluative” (Polansky, 2007, 433). In each of these claims we see phantasia allowing for extra-perception qua perception without evaluation, the presence of external objects, and even the possibility pace Davis that it somehow reveals for us the true power of our psychic functioning. Phantasia thus seems to allow that, as part of the perceptive function but yet a different movement than perception altogether, we re-encounter sense data in our own time and, in some cases, for no other reason than the encounter itself. This means that pace Sappho, we allow mythic time into our present moments. We make the “once,” “now.”

11

See Wedin (1988, 84–90) for an argument against the “decaying sense” interpretation of phantasia, as seen in (op. cit.) Nussbaum (1978) and Beare (1908), in favor of a “weak sense” interpretation. The latter allows for this idea of a re-perception instead of assuming a static sense impression. 12 There is a further relation between phaneron (typically, appearance) and phantasia. For Aristotle, the difference between phantasia and phaneron is that phantasia brings something to be thought that is not being immediately perceived and a, “detachment of experience from time”; it requires sensation for content and allows for the possibility of error in that it appropriates for thinking that which has already been perceived (Davis, 2011, 36).

48

C. C. Harry

Next, I would like to look at Aristotle’s negative and positive accounts of the “now” in his Treatise on Time in Physics IV.10–11.13 In Physics IV.10, we find what I consider Aristotle’s negative account of time— arguments he makes against the views of the endoxa to establish what time is not. In his negative account, Aristotle works through the believed “parts of time”: past, future, and “now”, establishing that none of these could logically be “parts of time.” Parts, he instructs, are measures of wholes, and parts themselves have parts (218a6– 7). But, time for Aristotle is not made of “nows”, at least in the temporal sense. This is to say that time for Aristotle is not going to end up being a linear continuum existing as a subsistent being itself, independent of natural objects. The “now” is not going to mean a point in a temporal realm existent prior to or despite the existence of natural beings. Aristotle easily demonstrates that the past and future do not actually exist as real, i.e. we can clearly think about them, but they cannot be perceived, and then sets out to understand “now.” For Aristotle, “now,” is not a part of time as it is often believed to be; rather it is the name for that which delimits the kinesis, or change, undergone by existing self-subsistent ensouled bodies. What exactly does delimit change in self-subsistent beings for Aristotle? Aristotle returns to a discussion of the now when he begins his “analytic” or positive account of time. In order to explain the meaning of “now” for his account of time, he introduces a metaphor: a person’s body (219b13–33), being carried from place to place. As the body travels, time progresses, but the temporal dimension is dependent on the body’s movement and, ultimately, on the body itself. As the body moves, it both changes and stays the same. There is an underlying unity about the body—its substratum that remains through all accidental or non-substantial change, which is to say: even as it changes location, or alters in any number of small ways. The body is “here,” and now it is “here.” The “now,” like the body, is nontemporal14 ; it is the universal name for points of discreet change, or motion in substantial beings. Just as we become aware of “before” and “after” in the act of the body being carried, yet despite the direction it is moving, we likewise notice the now when we observe spatial change,15 or more broadly, teleological change.16 13

A longer more elaborate version of this section can be found in Harry (2015, Chapter 2). Coope (2009, 29) supports that the now is not temporal when she observes, “On the one hand, none of time is except the now. This suggests that time only exists in virtue of the existence of the now. But on the other hand, for the now to exist, it must be a division or boundary of some independently existing continuum. This continuum cannot be time, since time itself is dependent on the now. It follows that there must be some other continuum, prior to time, on which the now depends for its existence” (emphases in original). For Coope, however, the “other continuum” is going to be change. I disagree with this conclusion, however, and take it a bit further. The more primordial “other continuum” is a “this,” the self-subsistent existing natural beings, “the matter” undergoing the change. 15 See Hussey (1983, 143) on “changes ‘along’ magnitudes”; there, he concludes that every change is necessarily a change along a path and thus that there is ontological and logical priority on the path. 16 See my discussion with Rachel Parsons on the issue of teleological change in Aristotle’s definition of time in Eckstrand (2018). 14

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

49

When a change has taken place and has been noticed, we derive a sense of temporality. The men were in Lydia, and now they are in Thebes; the girls didn’t know the song, and now they have learned it; he was young, and now he is older. We typically think of these examples of motion or change as having occurred in time, as if time were a vessel in which all change occurs according to a predetermined progression. On this model, we think of the “now” as points on the line of this progress. But, this view is precisely what Aristotle rejects. The “now” is not a point in a series of points on a line; it is the name we use to designate apprehending the difference between discreet moments of accidental change in substantial beings. The “now,” as it is with the body, is both that which remains, i.e. the identity or substratum that is maintained through change, as well as the difference before and after the change (219b26–29). The “now” is every subsistent being, both its substratum and the difference between what it is before and then after accidental change. The woman’s presence now, yet simultaneous potential for being on the way to Athens is “before,” and her subsequent presence in Athens is “after.” The woman is “now,” the current location is “now,” and the subsequent is “now.” The now is the way we mark our apprehension of other beings who are always already changing in various small ways as a matter of the course of their lives. In his natural philosophy, or science, Aristotle is working toward a comprehensive understanding of nature. Here, he writes: “this is what is most knowable; for motion is known because of that which is moved, locomotion because of that which is carried. For what is carried is a ‘this’ (τ Òδε τ ι), the movement is not” (219b29–31). We perceive motion, which alerts us to investigate nature. When we investigate the nature of natural beings, we find that their nature is change. The change is not the being to investigate; but that we observe change alerts us to the way natural beings exist and, at the same time, because of the way natural beings exist, we observe change. Change exposes the complexity of natural beings; no natural being, by its nature, is simply static. We proceed from the movement we perceive, but the movement itself is not the topic of investigation; the “this,” or substantial beings are. The “now” we notice as “before” in this way and “after” in that way is precisely Aristotle’s topic in the Physics. The kind of being, which remains the same, and yet constantly changes, is peculiar to natural being. This is to say that “the now” is a common name for natural being, and thus an identifier for the change it undergoes. Aristotle thus extricates the temporal character of “now” (nun) from the term. To perceive a change from “now” to “now” connotes no change “in time.” Instead, it means simply the actual difference on the path (to use Hussey’s term) of change from “before” to “after.” Aristotle’s moving body metaphor is perfect here—the body was “here” and now it is “there.” The temporal component of such a movement comes as a derivative of the movement, i.e. once it has been apprehended and, in some cases, counted.17 17

The “now” and time have a complex relationship because not only does time seem to be made continuous by the now, i.e. time intervals continue so long as a natural object is in motion, but also time is limited by the “now,” i.e. when change has occurred, the interval numbering the change likewise ends (220a5). To say here that the “now” is both that which makes time continuous as well as that which limits time is really to equivocate on the term. Or, to be charitable to Aristotle here, it

50

C. C. Harry

We share in the creation of time when we mark that which is here, now, before us in our experience of life. Temporality emerges as that which allows us to organize the constant change of natural beings around us. When we factor in our ability to create our ‘now’ by way of imagination and re-perception, we see that our experience of the present, along with our memories of the past, and potentially even projections of the future, allow us to create time. This sense of time, which is a collaboration between our experience, our faculties, and the people and things with which we interact everyday and/or hold dear in our minds, seems to echo the sense of time we and Stehle find in Sappho’s poetry.

4.3 Conclusion: Sappho as a Philosopher of Time When we consider these readings of Aristotle with the previous analysis of Sappho’s poems, we see a connection between the way Sappho talks about the being who stands before me and is present to me, and that which is recalled to mind because of a previous presence. There is a certain privileging of that which is here, “now,” and the role whatever that is has in one’s own temporal experience. It is the beginning of the experience of time; for, our experience of that which is “now” vis-à-vis that which is not, even in the experience of the everyday change of that which is here “now,” opens up the very possibility for an experience of temporality. When we recall that which was once, we are connecting to a past that was in and through our creation of and experience of time in the present, on account of what is now. “Now” is perceived in the immediacy of the present, and “once” is a re-perception of that which was. That which was here, once, is privileged in the way we consciously recall it in the present. In the re-perception of what is no longer, we work to experience that which was, now. Pace Stehle, Sappho’s poetry illustrates this temporal order of present to past, and past in the present, even projecting it into the future. Sappho’s poetry, that is, uses temporal markers to show the way we relate to other beings in our lives. It establishes the relationship between beings and time for which Aristotle’s treatises argue. My conclusion here, then, is that Sappho was an early philosopher of time in the same vein that I understand Aristotle to be a philosopher of time, which is to say that they were thinkers engaged with the existence and experience of natural beings and, as such, of the ways natural beings primarily act and interact with each other in the world. What we see “now” and what we remember now as having been “once,” when these are motivated by a natural desire to experience others—a beloved from the past, a child now—time is actualized by the very counting of these encounters, as “nows” become “before,” “after,” projections for the future, and so on. is to seemingly conflate the two senses of “now” just established—(1) the substratum of the natural object and (2) the object “before” and then “after” change. It is by the first sense of “now” that time is made continuous because the natural object continues to move with periods of rest so long as it exists. It is by the second sense that time is limited.

4 New Sappho as a Philosopher of Time?

51

While we readily remember Aristotle for his significant contributions to enlightening human motivations, actions, thoughts, desires, and sensations, I think we can also laud Sappho for having shed light on these same areas. Even if Sappho’s method of communication was not as straightforward as Aristotle’s, her insights are no less significant for those of us still struggling to understand ourselves, each other, and the world—here, now, once, and in the future.

Bibliography Aristotle. (1933). Metaphysics (H. Tredennick, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press. Aristotle. (1957). On the soul, Parva Naturalia, on breath (W. S. Hett, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press. Aristotle. (1961). Parts of animals (E. S. Forster, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press. Aristotle. (1937). Physics (A. L. Peck, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press. Aristotle. (1984). Physics. In J. Barnes (Ed.), Revised Oxford Translation (ROT) of The complete works of Aristotle (2 Vols.). Princeton University Press. Barnard, M. (1994). Sappho (D. Fitts, Foreword). Shambala. Beare, J. I. (1908). Part 1. In Parva Naturalia. Oxford. Caston, V. (1996). Why Aristotle needs imagination. Phronesis, 41(1), 20–55. Chandler, R. (1998). Sappho (R. Jenkyns, Introduction). Everyman. Coope, U. (2009). Time for Aristotle. OUP. Davis, M. (2011). The soul of the Greeks. University of Chicago Press. Eckstrand, N. (2018, July 19). Chronos in Aristotle’s physics: On the nature of time. Blog of the American Philosophical Association (APA). https://blog.apaonline.org/2018/07/19/chronos-inaristotles-physics-on-the-nature-of-time/ Harry, C. (2015). Chronos in Aristotle’s physics: On the nature of time. Springer. Hussey, E. (Trans. and Comm.). (1983). Aristotle’s Physics, Books III and IV. Clarendon Press. Lombardo, S. (2016). Sappho complete poems and fragments (P. Gordon, Introduction). Hackett. Lardinois, A., & Rayor, D. J. (2014). Sappho: New translation of the complete works. Cambridge University Press. McCulloch, A. (2013, December 23). Fragments from Sappho. The Times Literary Supplement. https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/public/fragments-from-sappho/ McEvilley, T. (2008). Sappho. Spring Publications. Nussbaum, M. C. (1978). Aristotle’s De Motu Animalium. Princeton University Press. Plato. 1929. Timaeus. Critias. Cleitophon. Menexenus. Epistles (R. G. Bury, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library 234. Harvard University Press. Polansky, R. (2007). Aristotle’s De anima. Cambridge University Press. Roche, P. (1998). The love songs of Sappho with an Introduction by Page duBois. Prometheus. Schofield, M. (1995). Aristotle on the imagination. In M. C. Nussbaum & A. O. Rorty (Eds.), Essays on Aristotle’s De Anima (Chapter 14, pp. 249–278). Oxford University Press. Stehle, E. (2009). ‘Once’ and ‘now’: Temporal markers and Sappho’s self-representation. In E. Greene & M. B. Skinner (Eds.), The new Sappho on old age: Textual and philosophical issues. Hellenic Studies Series 38. Center for Hellenic Studies. Watson, G. (1982). Phantasia in Aristotle, De Anima 3.3. The Classical Quarterly, 32, 100–113. West, M. (2005). The new Sappho. In Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik (Bd. 151, pp. 1–9). Wedin, M. V. (1988). Mind and imagination in Aristotle. Yale University Press.

52

C. C. Harry

Chelsea C. Harry is Professor of Philosophy at Southern Connecticut State University in New Haven, Connecticut, USA. She is the author of Chronos in Aristotle’s Physics: On the Nature of Time (Springer, 2015) and co-editor of Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Presocratic Natural Philosophy in Later Classical Thought (Brill, 2021) in addition to a number of articles and book chapters in ancient philosophy, natural philosophy, nineteenth century German thought, intercultural philosophy, and women in the history of philosophy.

Chapter 5

Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing Pathways for Grene’s and Keller’s Naturalist Accounts of Living Beings Anna Frammartino Wilks

Abstract Considerable conceptual shifts were required to prepare the philosophers of the early modern period for a fully naturalist approach to the study of living beings. Two women philosophers of the seventeenth century, Anne Conway and Margaret Cavendish, made significant contributions to this shift. Despite their rejection of dualism, their views are not typically considered instrumental in advancing this revolutionary approach to the explanation of biological phenomena, as they both defended radical vitalist positions. Their vitalist programs were also a reaction to the deficiencies of the purely mechanistic account of living beings ushered in by the new scientific framework taking shape during this period. My aim is to show how Conway and Cavendish’s concerns about a purely mechanistic account of living nature still lurk in the naturalist views of two prominent contemporary philosophers—Marjorie Grene and Evelyn Fox Keller. Despite their rejection of vitalism and their defense of a purely mechanistic framework, both Grene and Keller resist a reductionist account of living beings, as it fails to provide an adequate explanation of some fundamental features that demarcate living from non-living nature—such as form, self-organization, function and agency—which Conway and Cavendish also believe are underdetermined by a reductionist type of mechanism. By highlighting some of the common ground shared by these thinkers, I show how each advances the development of naturalism in distinct but closely related ways.

A. F. Wilks (B) Acadia University, Wolfville, NS, Canada © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_5

53

54

A. F. Wilks

5.1 Introduction The move towards naturalism in the living sciences was not achieved in one grand leap. This chapter traces the contributions of some influential women philosophers to the development of a naturalist account of living beings. My aim is to show how the works of two prominent contemporary philosophers, Marjorie Grene and Evelyn Fox Keller, may be viewed as mature developments of what I view as the protonaturalist accounts of living things proposed by two seventeenth century philosophers—Anne Conway and Margaret Cavendish. Both Grene and Keller defend thoroughgoing, naturalist accounts of living beings which, though purely mechanistic, are non-reductionist in an important way. I argue that the particular features of living nature that lead Grene and Keller to resist reductionism in biological explanation are, in certain crucial respects, similar to those that incite Conway and Cavendish’s skepticism about the possibility of explaining all features of living nature in terms of non-living nature. While the accounts of each of these philosophers move us increasingly closer to a full-blown naturalist view of biological phenomena, some central concepts, such as form, self-organization, function, and agency, continue to elude us in the attempt to embrace a purely reductionist account of living beings.1 My examination of Conway and Cavendish in this chapter differs from most other treatments of their work, which usually consider their views in connection with the philosophers of the early modern period, and how their theories either contrast with or develop the views of Descartes, Leibniz, Hobbes, More, and other influential male figures of the seventeenth and eighteenth century.2 In contrast, I explore how their ideas are of interest in comparison with the work of two women philosophers in contemporary philosophy of biology—Marjorie Grene and Evelyn Fox Keller.While each of these thinkers adopts a uniquely distinct position, some common conceptual threads weave through their accounts of the demarcation of living and non-living nature. This conceptual consonance serves as the basis for an illuminating story about the development of naturalism in the living sciences that may be told independently of the more familiar story focusing on the contributions of the prominent male philosophical figures who tackled this same program.3 Even when Conway and Cavendish’s work did not influence that of others directly, their innovative conceptual frameworks nonetheless prepared the minds of their era for the impending naturalist worldview that would gradually assert itself by challenging, in provocative ways, the popular dualist tradition of their time. The issue of whether and how living things are unique aspects of nature, requiring a distinct 1

Both Grene and Keller acknowledge that, although no modern biologist espouses vitalism, some remnants of the old controversy over the nature and status of living beings persist in a different form in current philosophy of biology. 2 My approach here adheres to that advocated by Broad and Green (2009) in treating the views of women thinkers in their own right rather than in comparison with the thought of the most influential men of their time. 3 This project is, in part, an attempt to address the paradox noted by Hagengruber (2015, 35) of acknowledging women’s contribution to a philosophical tradition from which they were, nonetheless, excluded.

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

55

type of scientific explanation is among the shared interests of these philosophers and the focus of my analysis. Although several centuries of advanced research in the living sciences have significantly transformed the general projects undertaken by these philosophers, some of the core underlying issues retain their perplexing form.

5.2 Anne Conway (1631–1679): Setting the Naturalist Stage Behind the Scenes of Vitalism British seventeenth century philosopher, Anne Finch Conway, nudged the thinkers of her time beyond the traditional bounds with her posthumous and anonymous publication, Principles of the most ancient and modern philosophy (1692).4 The impact of this work rippled through the greatest minds of the early modern period.5 Its objective was to provide an account of the ontological nature of spirit, and of the attributes of God. Conway’s interest was to examine the relationship between an unchanging, necessary, eternal, divine being and the finite, temporal, physical world that is its creation. In contrast to those of her time who defended the existence of a vital affinity between body and spirit, Conway rejects this position as “foolish,” given the conceptions of body and spirit upon which this view is founded (Conway, 1996, 57). On the presumption that body and spirit have completely opposite essences, she thinks there could be no rational grounds for a vital affinity between them. Conway contends that an intelligible explanation of the close union between body and spirit requires the understanding that they share one fundamental essence, and that there is, therefore, a continuity between them. Despite its theological underpinnings, this conceptual move represents a significant step towards a naturalist account of both body and spirit, and of living as well as non-living nature, as it constitutes a serious challenge to the popular dualism of her time. Conway takes as her starting point the idea that spirit requires an organized body in order to carry out its functions. She asks, “why does spirit require a corporeal eye so wonderfully formed and organized that I may see through it (Conway, 1996, 57)? If spirit could accomplish the function of vision without need of the body, the bodily organs would be superfluous—resulting in overdetermination. She thinks it is imperative to provide an explanation of this close union of body and spirit.6 Her emphasis on the importance of form and function for understanding the nature of living beings is evident here. A proper explanation of these features, she thinks, requires acknowledging the connection of body and spirit for carrying out these functions. Conway construes this connection as the interchangeability of body and spirit, owing to their being essentially one substance, viewed from two different 4

See Hutton (2004) for a comprehensive study of Conway’s intellectual development. Among others, Merchant (1979) and Schroeder (2007) note that Conway’s account of spirit, matter and substance, anticipates Leibniz’s theory of the monad (individual substance). 6 Lascano (2013, 332) adds that, “according to Conway, the body is the repository not merely of images from the outside, but also of our own thoughts, memories, and knowledge.” 5

56

A. F. Wilks

perspectives, i.e., there is merely a logical rather than a real distinction between them (Conway, 1996, 28–55). Thus, body and spirit are best understood as two modes of one substance that is perpetually mutable, but only in terms of its form. She maintains that “spirit and body are of one original nature and substance, and that body is nothing but fixed and condensed spirit, and spirit nothing but volatile body or body made subtle” (Conway, 1996, 61). This view amounts to a rejection of the characterization of the attributes of body and spirit defended by Conway’s contemporaries. The traditional features attributed to the body are impenetrability and divisibility (Conway, 1996, 48). The traditional attributes of spirit are penetrability and indivisibility (Conway, 1996, 48). In contrast, Conway maintains that both body and spirit are penetrable to some degree and are divisible in some sense, since they possess the same essence. This view is rendered intelligible, she thinks, if body is not understood as dead, inert, matter, completely lacking in life, but rather as something which has, either potentially or actually, life and sensation. Conway’s central point is that “there is no body anywhere which does not have motion and consequently life or spirit” (Conway, 1996, 51). The difference between body and spirit consists simply in the degree to which they possess motion, life and sensation—body being more gross, and spirit more subtle. Since body is more gross and densely packed, it is less penetrable than spirit, which is less dense. With respect to the issue of divisibility, Conway argues that, in actual fact, a body cannot be divided. To say that a body is divisible is a contradiction in terms, since then each body must be composed of a smallest body, and the smallest body must also be divisible; but the smallest body cannot be divided—since it is the smallest, i.e., it does not consist of smaller bodies into which it may be further divided. Thus, “if a body is understood as a single individual, it is indivisible” (Conway, 1996, 52). Conway concludes that “impenetrability and indivisibility are no more essential attributes of body than of spirit, because in one sense these attributes apply to both, and in another sense, they apply to neither body nor spirit” (Conway, 1996, 53). Therefore, Conway thinks it is more reasonable to maintain that body and spirit are both penetrable and impenetrable to some degree, rather than either penetrable or not in an absolute sense. These arguments constitute the basis of her vitalist position. Conway acknowledges that bodies and spirits are divisible from each other, on one level, but asserts that they nonetheless remain fundamentally united, given that the whole of being does not contain a vacuum (Conway, 1996, 52–55). The unity between even the most spiritual body and the densest body is achieved by an infinite series of intermediate bodies, giving rise to various degrees of subtlety and crassness on the spectrum between these two extremes. It is these innumerable mediating bodies that connect body and spirit, rendering a vacuum between them impossible. This connection via intermediary bodies is also what enables spirit to move the body (Conway, 1996, 59). Thus, there is one single substance, and all particular bodies are simply modes of this one substance. This view amounts to a rejection of atomism and corpuscularianism—which were also prevalent in Conway’s day. Conway further maintains that the intimate union between bodies and spirits enables the spirits to govern the bodies (to which they are bonded), and to move the bodies from one

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

57

place to another, as well as use bodies as instruments in the carrying out of various functions. That is, “spirit requires an organized body to perform the vital actions of the external senses and to move the body” (Conway, 1996, 57). Moreover, Conway conceives of a hierarchy in nature, with base matter at the lower levels, and refined spirit at the upper level. In between there is a continuous spectrum of beings varying in degrees of both, each exercising a specific function, but ultimately governed by one ruling spirit (Conway, 1996, 53). Most scholars agree that this position is best described as a monist view. Exactly what kind of monist theory best characterizes Conway’s position, however, is a matter of much dispute. Jessica Gordon-Roth provides a probing account of this dispute, distinguishing between existence monism and type monism. Those who claim that Conway is an existence monist argue that “Conway’s ontology contains just one existing vital, spiritual substance in creation, and creatures are modes of that one substance” (Gordon-Roth, 2018, 288). Gordon-Roth notes that among such scholars are Sarah Hutton and Christia Mercer (Mercer, 2012). Those who argue that Conway is a type monist see her as maintaining that “although each creature is itself a substance, all creatures are comprised of the same ‘stuff:’ spiritual substance” (Gordon-Roth, 2018, 288).7 Emily Thomas and Eileen O’Neill defend this interpretation of Conway’s monism.8 On both these accounts, Conway’s position is characterized as some form of idealist monism. Gordon-Roth herself thinks there is a genuine inconsistency in the various ways Conway characterizes her position, and that therefore she is best understood as an oscillating monist. She explains that “Conway knowingly oscillates between a view in which there is a proliferation of spiritual substances and just one existing spiritual substance in the realm of creation” (Gordon-Roth, 2018, 292). John Grey (2017) notes that Conway’s monism is based on an objection to Descartes’ dualist view that there is a distinct ontological line that demarcates thinking from extended beings. Grey’s account of Conway’s objection is that there can only be a difference in the nature of two things if there is a difference in their cause, i.e., the dependence thesis (Grey, 2017, 12–15). Since, however, all created substances originate from the same cause, on which they are all equally dependent, they must possess the same nature. My own view is that, taking all these considerations together, there is basis for construing Conway’s position as a type of neutral monism. Grey (2017, 2) also proposes this view. A proper evaluation of this claim, however, is beyond the scope of this chapter. In viewing spirit to be as natural as body, Conway represents a significant departure from the thinkers of her time, and an anticipation of the far-reaching views to come. Though her defense of vitalism, which fuels her skepticism of the sufficiency of mechanism to explain the whole of nature, may be inconsistent with a full-fledged form of naturalism, her rejection of dualism paves the way for the view that there is 7

Merchant argues that Conway is best described as an idealist monist—given her use of the term “monad.” (Merchant, 1979, 263–266). More recently, Thomas (2017) and White (2008) have argued that Conway is essentially a process philosopher, given the primacy she places on change. 8 Gordon-Roth (2018, 283) also mentions Boyle’s interpretation of Conway as a trialist rather than a monist, given her belief in three types of substance: God, Christ and creatures.

58

A. F. Wilks

only one nature to explain. Her point is not that there exists a special kind of being in nature that mechanism cannot explain, but rather that the kind of being that nature consists of is infinitely complex, so as to render it inexplicable by mechanism in its entirety. Thus, although the whole of “created” nature can be reduced to one type of being, our modes of explaining it via mechanism alone leave it underdetermined. Neither this claim, however, nor her belief in the existence of God as the author of nature, existing beyond nature, detracts from the fact that Conway defends a position with significant naturalist undertones, qualifying it as proto-naturalism.9

5.3 Margaret Cavendish (1623–1673): Is “Thinking Matter” Really Unthinkable in a Naturalist Framework? British seventeenth century philosopher, Margaret Lucas Cavendish, is also a pivotal figure who pushed naturalism forward in the early phases of its history.10 Like Conway, she developed views on nature unorthodox for her time, defending a radical form of vitalism, and a skepticism about the sufficiency of mechanism to offer an adequate explanation of living nature.11 Cavendish, in her influential work Observations Upon Experimental Philosophy (1668), shares Conway’s view that all bodies are infinitely divisible. There are no finite, fundamental parts, and no vacuum; bodies are everywhere, continuous throughout nature (Cavendish, 2001, 199). She therefore joins Conway in a rejection of the corpuscularianism and atomism of their time, maintaining that there is no fundamental principle, substance or element in nature that constitutes the building block of all other substances (Cavendish, 2001, 199–200). Of particular interest is the emphasis Cavendish places on the nature of both spirit and matter as self-moving and intelligent. This view was dismissed by the great thinkers of the early modern period, who could not even think of this as intelligible within the mechanistic framework that was underway. Cavendish renders this claim plausible by construing matter as active, living and thinking, rather than inert, lifeless, and unthinking. These claims stem from Cavendish’s rejection of emergentism. She insists that new forms cannot be generated in nature, unless such forms already exist, at least potentially, in nature (Cavendish, 2001, 202–204). Even the human soul, i.e., reason—which she also refers to as “the mind of nature,” must already exist in nature; but since all of nature is material, and mind is part of nature, mind is also material 9

It should be noted from my analysis that Conway’s primary contribution was to the exploration of the metaphysical and epistemological issues that received attention in her time, and not with feminist issues. As Hagengruber and Hutton (2019, 6) point out, it is a notable feature of most women early modern philosophers that they tended not to be concerned with particular “womanly preoccupations.” 10 See Whitaker’s (2002) biography of Cavendish. 11 Cavendish, however, did not enjoy the respect and recognition that was demonstrated to Conway (Barnes, 2009).

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

59

(Cavendish, 2001, 208–210, 221). Thus, Cavendish proposes not only vitalism, but also an early version of panpsychism, in a more explicit form than we find in Conway. While this vitalist, panpsychist position may at first appear contrary to naturalism, it becomes less problematic if one acknowledges its foundations. Cavendish maintains that the motions of bodies in nature, including living nature, all have material causes, i.e., efficient causes. None are effects of immaterial agents (e.g., immaterial minds, or God). Thus, she agrees with Conway that, with respect to the “created” world—the world of nature—there are no non-natural forces, entities, or laws. Cavendish specifies that the matter of which all things are constituted consists of two degrees (kinds or parts), i.e., animate and inanimate. Inanimate matter is “the body of infinite nature.” Animate matter involves “nothing but self-motion” (Cavendish, 2001, 121). However, Cavendish does not view these differences as denoting real but only logical distinctions, discerned by reason (Cavendish, 2001, 126–127). She stresses that, although these two types of matter are conceptually distinct, they always exist blended in nature (Cavendish, 2001, 204–208). For this reason, Cavendish maintains, all bodies have life, intelligence and perception, in some blended form, and to some degree. She contends that no part of nature exists which does not contain the conmixture of both animate and inanimate matter (Cavendish, 2001, 158; O’Neill, 2013, 315). Cavendish further distinguishes between two kinds of animate matter: (a) rational (soul), and (b) sensitive (life) (Cavendish, 2001, 206). The animate matter contained in the commixture of inanimate matter and animate matter does not just include sensitive matter but rational matter as well. This is the basis of her panpsychist and panorganicist view (Cavendish, 2001, 205–207; O’Neill, 2013, 315). Moreover, Cavendish reasons that since the souls of human beings are simply a part of the soul of nature, they too must be material, since the soul of nature is material.12 She writes, “this natural soul, otherwise called reason, is nothing else but corporeal natural selfmotion, or particle of the purest, most subtle and active part of matter,” which she refers to as “animate” (Cavendish, 2001, 221). Because this animate, rational matter pervades all beings in nature, she concludes that all matter consists of some degree of soul, reason, life and mind (Cavendish, 2001, 221–223). It should be stressed that the “blended substance” that constitutes the whole of nature is, in essence, material.13 Thus, while Conway could be conceived as either an idealist monist or a neutral monist, Cavendish is best understood as a material monist.14 Karen Detlefsen further specifies Cavendish’s view as token-monism with respect to substance, i.e., all things are just parts or modes of one individual substance (Detlefsen, 2006, 214; Cavendish, 2001, 197). However, Detlefsen indicates that Cavendish defends type-monism with respect to causation, i.e., material 12

Cavendish distinguishes, however, between the natural soul and the divine soul (which, she says, is the domain of religion). 13 See James (1999, 225–227) for a discussion of how this tripartite view of nature is best understood as a blending of matter rather than a hierarchy. 14 Hutton (1997, 422) provides an account of Cavendish’s monism as both inspired by and distinguished from the materialism of Hobbes.

60

A. F. Wilks

causation is the only type of cause in nature, and it is both sensitive and rational in form. The individual parts of nature may only function as occasional causes.15 Notwithstanding her view that matter and spirit exist blended throughout the whole of nature, Cavendish stresses that “reason, or the rational part of nature, is the prime part of nature” (Cavendish, 2001, 205). Given this conception of nature as fundamentally material, living, and rational, Cavendish’s position has also been referred to as an “organicist materialism.”16 Despite her materialist view of the whole of nature, Cavendish rejects the mechanistic account of causation and motion at the foundation of the seventeenth century scientific worldview. This position stems largely from Cavendish’s rejection of the transference of properties from one object to another, which she thinks the mechanistic view of motion requires (Cavendish, 2001, 200; O’Neill, 2013, 323). In her vitalist framework, God does not act directly on matter. Rather, matter is construed as self-moving, sensing, and rational, and thus self-sufficient.17 This defense of the self-sufficiency of matter marks a deep groove in the history of naturalism. Cavendish’s materialism, however, does not entail the denial of the existence of immaterial beings in her entire ontological scheme. She merely denies their existence in nature (Cavendish, 2001, 201).18 Cavendish defends the existence of only one immaterial being—God, the author of nature, which is beyond nature and, as explained above, does not act directly on the beings in nature (Cavendish, 2001, 215). Consequently, she thinks scientific experimentation and the use of scientific instruments can only tell us about the natural features of particular, natural objects; they cannot tell us anything about nature as a whole, or of anything beyond nature (Cavendish, 2001, 201). While asserting that the whole of being is entirely material, Cavendish clearly conceives of the material as encompassing a great deal more than the traditional notion. For Cavendish, matter is rich enough to include the characteristics that are normally thought of as non-material, specifically, activity and thought. Once the notion of the material is in this way expanded, it may be seen in what sense Cavendish’s position may be properly described as naturalist. Clearly, the type of naturalism that can be attributed to Cavendish is a significantly qualified one, as is Conway’s, and best described as another instance of proto-naturalism. Even in this rudimentary form, however, Cavendish’s position represents a significant advance towards an understanding of living nature, and even mind, as purely naturalist, and governed solely by natural laws. It is important to note, however, that Cavendish acknowledges an irreducible teleological element beyond the natural realm, which 15

See Detlefsen (2006, 227–240) for a discussion of the distinctions between these various forms of substance monism and causation monism. 16 This view is espoused by Detlefsen (2006, 200). Detlefsen also references O’Neill (1998, 260) as defending this characterization of Cavendish’s position. 17 See James (1999, 225–231) for a treatment of Cavendish’s account of the self-sufficiency of matter in her Philosophical letters (1664). 18 Cavendish stresses, however, that although we are able to conceive of supernatural, immaterial beings, we are, nonetheless, not able to know or perceive them.

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

61

accounts for the order and harmony in nature.19 The centuries to come would eradicate these teleological remnants, along with their vitalist scaffolding, and develop, in their place, purely naturalist accounts of living beings rooted in the advanced biological sciences.

5.4 Marjorie Grene (1910–2009): Non-reductionist Philosophical Naturalism and the Need for Hierarchical Explanation in the Biological Sciences A central issue, for some time, in current philosophy of biology has been the possibility of reductionism in our accounts of living nature. The work of twentieth century philosopher of biology, Marjorie Grene, has been foundational in sorting out some of the crucial problems and approaches in connection with this issue.20 Grene distinguishes between three types of reductionism in biology: ontological, methodological, and theoretic (epistemic) (Grene & Depew, 2004, 311). Ontological reductionism is the view that all biological systems are material in nature, and consist of molecules and the material interactions between them, i.e., the rejection of vitalism. Methodological reductionism involves the study and explanation of biological phenomena in strictly material terms and involves molecular and biochemical descriptions and causes. Theoretic reductionism is the reduction of biology, as a scientific discipline, to another scientific discipline, specifically, chemistry and physics. This type of reductionism views biological investigation as seeking to explain all biological systems entirely in terms of their most basic material parts, apart from the organization of those parts (Grene & Depew, 2004, 311). Grene argues that while ontological reductionism (materialism), and methodological reductionism (teleology as a merely heuristic device) are, for the most part, non-problematic, and therefore acceptable, the question of theoretical reductionism is far more complicated (Grene & Depew, 2004, 311). It is this type of reductionism that Grene thinks is most extreme and least promising. Grene’s focus is the possible reduction of classical (Mendelian) genetics to molecular genetics, and the related issue of the reduction of evolutionary biology to molecular biology. She thus revisits the old debate of whether “the phenomena of life can be explained wholly in terms of the less than living” (Grene & Depew, 2004, 306). Grene is not in any sense a vitalist, as she maintains that “no mysterious something comes from afar to add itself to ‘merely’ physical materials” (Grene, 1987b, 506).21 She stresses, however, that we no longer need to counterfoil vitalism with a strict 19

See Broad (2002, 43) for a detailed account of Cavendish’s teleological view of nature, cited in Detlefsen (2006, 217–218). 20 See Hull (2002) and Honenberger (2015) for an overview of Grene’s views on reductionism and other related issues. 21 Conway and Cavendish also reject this kind of vitalism.

62

A. F. Wilks

programmatic mechanism to explain biological functions (Grene & Depew, 2004, 307). Grene defends a form of naturalism that entails ontological reductionism.22 That is, she acknowledges that biological beings are composed of the same kind of matter as non-living beings, and that there are no special laws governing living things, even in processes that appear to manifest teleology, i.e., final causality (Grene, 1972, 404; Grene & Depew, 2004).23 The kind of reductionism Grene completely rejects is the reduction of biological phenomena to the same explanatory level or causal series as physico-chemical phenomena. Living nature does not simply consist of heaps of material components, as is typical of non-living nature. It exhibits levels of organization of increasing complexity that are hierarchically ordered, e.g., the genetic and phenotypic levels.24 Correspondingly, there is also a hierarchical system of explanation, each level of which characterizes a distinct feature of biological phenomena that is explanatorily irreducible to the other levels (Grene, 1987b, 504).25 Thus, Grene advocates explanatory pluralism, which takes into consideration the context in which the biological being exists and within which it is examined (Grene, 1987a, 77; Grene & Depew, 2004, 289).26 The paradigm example appealed to by opponents of one-level reductionism, such as Grene, is the codes in a DNA molecule. Any such code, Grene argues, is immensely complex, consisting of a highly improbable arrangement of parts, that is simply unpredictable considered merely at the level of chemical and physical laws (Grene, 1974, 214). Even with complete knowledge of the molecular sequence at the genetic level (non-biological level), it is still not possible to know how that sequence will be manifested at the phenotypic level (biological level) (Grene & Depew, 2004, 309).27 Thus, the explanation at the biological level must be construed as a type of explanation distinct from that which is possible at the level of chemistry and physics.28 No single level of explanation is sufficient to explain all the others. Each scientific discipline investigates different issues pertaining to different realms of nature. 22

This kind of reductionism may also be understood as the reduction of wholes into their component parts. 23 Grene came to reject a teleological account of living beings in her mature work, after 1972. 24 Grene refers here to a “hierarchy of control,” which is to be distinguished from other types of hierarchies in biology, e.g., classificatory, genealogical, ecological, economic, evolutionary, form and function, etc. (Grene, 1987b). 25 Grene (1987b, 504–509) notes that some evolutionary theorists “go beyond the Darwinian restriction to the two levels of the gene and the organism,” and acknowledge at least three different levels: the focal level, the lower level and the higher level. 26 Grene (1987a) stresses the importance of context for understanding biological phenomena. She describes her position as historical realism, deriving from her view that the only kind of objectivity possible for human beings is contextual objectivity. 27 It should be noted, however, that vast progress has been made in genetics since Grene’s study of these issues. 28 Recognition of the multi-level hierarchical organization of living beings engendered fervent debate concerning the agents and causes of evolution. These debates focus on questions such as: “what units are the targets of selection (genes, organisms, species, clades, i.e., gene pools, ecosystems, etc.)”, and “at what level does selection take place (the genetic or phenotypic level)?”

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

63

Grene’s view that nature admits of a distinction of “levels” structured in a hierarchical manner bears, I think, a notable resemblance to the “organicism” of Conway and Cavendish—without adopting the vitalism they defended. Like them, Grene considers the organism as a primal unity, and emphasizes the “primacy of life.” That is to say, although the higher, biological level is dependent on the lower, physicochemical level, the biological level is prior to the lower level, both epistemically and ontologically (Grene, 1972, 413). For Grene, “the characterization of life is not a matter of making some absolute ‘cut’ between the living and the non-living. … [It is rather] a question of exhibiting life as a distinctive form of order among beings, a distinctive way of being and being-together with other beings.”29 Even human beings, Grene claims, as living beings, must be understood as part of the natural world, in terms of their animality (Longino, 2002, 88). Nonetheless, Grene is also not a reductionist about persons or culture (Grene, 1974; Honenberger, 2015, 23). Opposing the prevailing view of their time, which considered the whole of nature as a machine, Conway and Cavendish also detect in nature a hierarchical chain of being. Their position differs from the traditional defenders of this view, however, in that, they conceive of this chain as one “along which an evolution or transmutation to higher forms could occur, based upon the acquisition of goodness and perfection” (Merchant, 1979, 261). Though this moral evolution is not at all implied by Grene’s view, all three accounts share the common insight that the difference we acknowledge in nature between living and non-living being is due, not to the fact that there exist genuinely distinct types of beings in nature, but rather that our acknowledgement of these two types of beings results from our viewing one and the same nature from two different perspectives or levels. On Conway’s view, these two levels result from the interchangeability of matter and spirit, and the consequent forms thereby generated. According to Cavendish, the levels result from the blending of matter and spirit, and the degree to which each is present. Like Grene, Conway and Cavendish deny the existence of two fundamentally distinct kinds of substance, as dualism holds. All three, however, acknowledge that the level of the living consists of a form that is, in a fundamental sense, irreducible to the level of the non-living, and that explanations that attempt to reduce the former to the latter amount to an obliteration of the essential attributes possessed by living beings. Central to Grene’s view is her acknowledgment that “it is organization that is the overarching and fundamental concept for the study of living things” (Grene, 1974, 227). For this reason, both a formal and causal explanation of their complex, orderly structure is more of a requirement for studying them than for the study of non-living systems. It should be stressed that, although Grene rejects the reduction of biology to physics and chemistry, she explicitly states that biology, like all the other sciences, is thoroughly mechanistic, since it involves devising mechanistic explanations of biological processes. However, far from necessitating theoretic reductionism, mechanism can support a multi-level ontology, as described above, and 29

Compton (1984, 358). Grene, however, does think there are real discontinuities in nature that constitute the “cuts in this continuum;” these cuts are what are designated by “species” (Grene, 1972, 417–418).

64

A. F. Wilks

requires “level-pluralism” for a proper understanding of that ontology (Brandon, 1984, 348). Thus, like Conway and Cavendish, Grene does not think the rejection of reductionism requires “[embracing] a mystical, obscurantist, non-scientific methodology” (Brandon, 1984, 348). Moreover, Grene agrees with Cavendish that while it is possible to acquire real scientific knowledge about some parts of nature, it is not possible to achieve knowledge of the whole of nature through mechanism or any other means (Grene, 1972, 424). This overlap of Grene’s position with some key tenets of Conway and Cavendish’s views constitutes support for the claim that Conway and Cavendish had done much preparatory work, though indirectly, for the naturalist programs of the twentieth and twenty-first century, while simultaneously guarding against the pitfalls of reductionism in the living sciences.

5.5 Evelyn Fox Keller (1936–): From Self-Organization to Function—The Level of the Living That there is something about the organization of living things that is crucial for understanding how they differ from non-living things is a precept also shared by contemporary philosopher and scientist, Evelyn Fox Keller. Keller, however, emphasizes a point the others do not–that the organization we detect in living beings is rooted in the organism itself. That is, organisms are self-organized beings. Keller notes that developments in natural philosophy towards the end of the eighteenth century tended to converge on the view that “an organism is a system of organs (or tools) that behaves as if it had a mind of its own, i.e., that governs itself” (Keller, 2007, 304). On this view, “no external force, no divine architect, is responsible for the organization of nature, only the internal dynamics of the being itself” (Keller, 2007, 305). This naturalist position characterizes organisms as natural purposes in contrast to divine purposes, since their functions are consequences of their being self -organized rather than designed by a divine agent. Viewing the organism as itself the source of its organization is what sets it apart from a machine, even though organisms may be described mechanically (Keller, 2005, 1070). This position, Keller notes, was challenged by the development in cybernetics in the 1940’s, with the engineering of powerful and sophisticated machines that manifested circular causality, similar in nature to the reciprocal causality manifested by living things, in that they both involved a feedback loop and self-organization (Keller, 2005, 1070; 2008, 63–66). In addition, advances in physics led to the characterization of certain inorganic physical systems as things that also involve feedback loops, circular causality, and self-organization (Keller, 2005, 1071). The ambiguous relation between organisms, machines, and spontaneously arising systems seemed to challenge the demarcation of the living and the non-living. In light of these developments, Keller argues that it is not clear that self-organization is a sufficient criterion

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

65

for biological phenomena.30 In the effort to determine what other factors are requisite for an understanding of what is fundamental to living beings, Keller considers the process of the coming to be of living nature from non-living nature. Keller suspects that the origin of life is to be at least partly explained in terms of “the spontaneous emergence of order” involved in the type of self-organization” exhibited by non-linear, dynamical systems, e.g., thunderstorms (Keller, 2007, 312). Such spontaneous, self-organizing systems from unstructured, random, physical processes emerge not from a series of component parts, but rather as unified, metabolic networks—a process referred to by some as “order for free” (Keller, 2007, 312; 2009a, 133;). Keller contends, however, that organisms involve more than just “order for free.” They also manifest function or purpose, the basis for agency. Lacking this crucial feature, the spontaneously emerging self-organized systems described above cannot be viewed as alive (Keller, 2007, 312–316). Thus, Keller maintains that even the central feature of self-organization is not sufficient for life. What must further be explained is how a self-organizing system generates agency that exhibits function and purpose. Keller contends that “such properties seem clearly to require an order of complexity that goes beyond that which spontaneously emerges from complex interactions among simple elements” (Keller, 2009b, 19). Somehow structure and pattern have to generate a self , to which may be attributed the properties of agency and function (Keller, 2008, 67–69). These functions constitute another level of the complex system. This is the level of the living. What this requires, Keller argues, is the feature of robustness, which grants such systems the requisite stability to become living systems. Such robustness develops from the system’s encounter and struggle with the perturbations of the external world—its environmental context, as well as its own internal dynamics (Keller, 2009b, 20–21). In an attempt to explain the possible origin of the first cell, Keller insists that the compositional processes involved could not have been the same as the compositional processes at the level of already existing living entities, upon which natural selection could act. A special kind of composition must have asserted itself that derived from the complex of molecules themselves: “there is a kind of primitive activity already inherent in such collections of molecules,” i.e., an internalized activity built into the actual structure of such macromolecules (Keller, 2009b, 22). Keller curiously refers to this as a vital activity, which she describes as: “a kind of agency that comes directly out of molecular structure.31 She explains that these macromolecules are like “sticky balls that actively respond to getting stuck, composite structures that might even be said to embody a link between rudimentary forms of perception and action” (Keller, 2009b, 23). The plausibility of understanding this process as “a link between perception and action” necessitates simply that we conceive of the “binding site” of the molecules as a “sensory receptor” of some kind, and the resulting change of 30

See also Keller (2009a, 131–133) for a discussion of the distinction between self-assembly and self-organization. 31 Keller does not further specify her admittedly provocative use of the term “vital activity” here, but given her general account, it is most certainly not an endorsement of the traditional type of vital activity historically contrasted with mechanism.

66

A. F. Wilks

behaviour of the larger complex as a sort of “action”; i.e., agency (Keller, 2009b, 22– 23). At this stage, this network of molecules becomes “functional,” i.e., it engages in goal-oriented activity—agency rather than purely passive activity (Keller, 2009b, 22). Matter of this kind is not simply capable of reaction but is also capable of initiating action originating in itself as the source, which enables it to secure stability and persistence. Keller views the emergence of this autonomous activity as representing a sharp discontinuity between the non-living and the living, although it actually took place over an extensive evolutionary history. Keller (2009b, 22) muses that for this special kind of organized complexity to arise, there must have been an “internal activity” and “perception” present in some inorganic organized networks that enabled them to merge with other inorganic organized networks, to form composite systems of increasing complexity, whereby they became empowered with an advantage to deal with the challenges of their environment, and thus perpetuate their existence. Keller and others have referred to this as a “pre-Darwinian evolution” of inorganic beings that set the stage for the evolution through natural selection of living organisms (Keller, 2007, 312). This reference to an internal activity and perception is consonant with a central feature of Conway’s and Cavendish’s positions, as discussed above. To be sure, Keller’s view differs from theirs in an important respect. Conway and Cavendish maintain that this internal activity is present in all of nature, and that therefore all of nature is, to some extent, living. According to the vitalist positions of Conway and Cavendish, this internal activity is continuous throughout the realm of natural being. In contrast, Keller contends that this activity is emergent, and thus marks a sharp discontinuity in nature and represents a significant difference between living and non-living being. Furthermore, Keller’s claim that matter, organized in a specific way, achieves a kind of “perception” is not equivalent to a panpsychist view. It is certainly, however, suggestive of her acknowledgment that matter contains, in itself, the requisite structure for becoming perceptive, under the proper conditions, and in its interactions with its environment. In this respect, Keller’s position manifests some strain of Cavendish’s view that matter admits of varying degrees of perception. The crucial difference in their views is that while Cavendish thinks all matter possesses some degree of mind and perception, Keller thinks that only matter organized in a very specific way, and through interaction with external factors, achieves mental perception. Keller’s account of the emergence of living from non-living nature leads her to speculate that biologists might “finally, dispense with that ancient dichotomy lurking behind … physics and genetics, namely, the dichotomy between the animate and inanimate” (Keller, 2018, 38).32 Comparing these features of Keller’s thought with those of Conway and Cavendish, I maintain that there is both a convergence and a parting of ways on the journey towards a naturalist account of nature. Furthermore, Like Grene, Keller points out that current work in epigenetics reveals that there are numerous factors, besides genes, that affect the development of living beings (Keller, 2000). These factors involve contingent features in the organism’s environment with which the organism interacts, and to which it responds and adapts, 32

Keller (2002) elaborates on these issues.

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

67

to regulate its behaviour—a phenomenon referred to as homeostasis. These contextual factors serve as triggers of the expression of genetic material, in the absence of which, particular genetic material would not be activated (Keller, 2018, 36–37).These factors complicate further the attempt to reduce the level of the living to levels lower on the hierarchy of biological explanation. Keller asserts that “reduction from one causal level to another goes out the window, effectively prohibited by the feedback between levels” in the biological hierarchy (Keller, 2018, 38). There is no basis, Keller maintains, for the reduction of the causality involved in genetic explanations to the kind of causality operative in physics. For this reason, Keller, like Grene, advocates a pluralistic mosaic approach in the investigation of the living sciences, that adopts different strategies for the explanation of the various dimensions of living nature (Keller, 2018, 38). Given these considerations, it is evident that Keller, Grene, Conway and Cavendish all defend the ontological reduction of organisms to physical and chemical laws, as opposed to postulating special laws for living things. They all agree, however, that a theoretic reduction would yield incomplete and inadequate accounts of biological phenomena. Keller stresses that organisms, considered as natural purposes or natural ends, as beings possessing functions that derive from their self-organization and agency, developing in connection with their environment, are underdetermined by physical and chemical laws. Consequently, she contends, our biological accounts of organisms may perhaps never exhaustively describe them—not because they are governed by special laws, but simply because their organized complexity is so vast, it is beyond our limited epistemic bounds. What Keller offers, I maintain, is a modern statement of the more limited insights of Conway and Cavendish about what it is that makes living nature so resistant to a purely reductionist explanation.

5.6 Conclusion I have attempted to show how each of the philosophers here examined have made substantial contributions to the development of a naturalist account of living beings. Though the vitalist positions of Conway and Cavendish still retain non-natural elements of divine being, neither advocates appealing to the divine in scientific explanation. Also, neither views the mechanism of the seventeenth century as sufficient for an adequate account of living beings, as it leaves many of the rich features and processes in their nature unexplained. Consequently, they both adopt a qualified form of vitalism that acknowledges the inherent life, activity and perceptive capacity in the whole of nature. With much greater scope for informed reflection on these issues, Grene and Keller have no need to combat the deficiencies of a reductionist mechanistic account of living nature within the unfounded framework of vitalism. Rather, they envision the possibility of expanding the mechanistic account of nature in the biological disciplines in a manner that acknowledges the distinctly complex organization that asserts itself on the level of the living, in the hierarchy required for biological explanation. Moreover,

68

A. F. Wilks

both Grene and Keller recognize that the ordered complexity that characterizes living beings is a consequence of the organism’s interaction with its environment, which is, at the same time, shaped by the unique form and internal activity of the organism itself. Thus, they conclude that a purely naturalist and even mechanistic account of living beings need not be reductionist. This core insight is the basis also of Conway and Cavendish’s objections to the mechanism of their time. For these reasons, crediting Conway and Cavendish for advancing naturalism in the initial phases of its history is, I think, fully warranted. In naturalism’s later phases, the work of Grene and Keller may be viewed as more fully developed accounts of the same general precepts guiding Conway and Cavendish’s approaches. For all these thinkers, an adequate naturalistic program requires the appropriate expansion of mechanistic explanation to accommodate the complex materiality of living nature, rather than the reduction of living nature to the simple components of non-living matter.

Bibliography Barnes, D. (2009). Familiar epistolary philosophy: Margaret Cavendish. Parergon, 26, 39–64. Boyle, D. (2015). Margaret Cavendish on perception, self-knowledge, and probable opinion. Philosophy Compass, 10, 438–450. Broad, J. (2002). Women philosophers of the seventeenth century. Cambridge University Press. Broad, J., & Green, K. (2009). A history of women’s political thought in Europe, 1400–1700. Cambridge University Press. Brandon, R. N. (1984). Grene in mechanism and reductionism: More than just a side issue. PSA: Proceedings of the Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of Science Association, 2, 345–353 Cavendish, M. (2001). Observations upon experimental philosophy (E. O’Neill, Ed.). Cambridge University Press. Compton, J. J. (1984). Marjorie Grene and the phenomenon of life. PSA: Proceedings of the Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of Science Association, 2, 354–364. Conway, A. F. (1996). The principles of the most ancient and modern philosophy (A. P. Coudert & T. Corse, Eds.). Cambridge University Press. Detlefsen, K. (2006). Atomism, monism and causation in the natural philosophy of Margaret Cavendish. Oxford Studies in Early Modern Philosophy, 3, 199–240. Gordon-Roth, J. (2018). What kind of monist is Anne Finch Conway? Journal of the American Philosophical Association, 4, 280–297. Green, K., & Hagengruber, R. (2015). Introduction. The Monist, 98, 1–6. Grene, M. (1972). Aristotle and modern biology. Journal of the History of Ideas, 33, 395–424. Grene, M. (1987a). Historical realism and contextual objectivity: A developing perspective in the philosophy of science. In N. J. Nersessian (Ed.), The process of science (pp. 69–81). Kluwer Academic Publishers. Grene, M. (1987b). Hierarchies in biology. American Scientist, 75, 504–510. Grene, M., & Depew, D. (2004). The philosophy of biology: An episodic history. Cambridge University Press. Grene, M. (1974). Explanation and evolution. In R. S. Cohen & M. W. Wartofsky (Eds.), The understanding of nature: essays in the philosophy of biology (pp. 207–227). Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science 23, Springer. Grey, J. (2017). Conway’s ontological objection to Cartesian dualism. Philosophers’ Imprint, 17, 1−19.

5 Conway’s and Cavendish’s Non-reductionist Mechanism: Establishing …

69

Hagengruber, R., & Hutton, S. (2019). Introduction. British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 27, 673–683. Hagengruber, R. (2015). Cutting through the veil of ignorance: Rewriting the history of philosophy. The Monist, 98, 34–42. Honenberger, P. (2015). Grene and Hull on types and typological thinking in biology. Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences, 50, 13–25. Hull, D. L. (2002). A portrait of biology. In R. E. Auxier & L. E. Hahn (Eds.), The philosophy of Marjorie Grene (pp. 259–283). Open Court Publishing Company. Hutton, S. (1997). In dialogue with Thomas Hobbes: Margaret Cavendish’s natural philosophy. Woman’s Writing, 4, 421–432. Hutton, S. (2004). Anne Conway: A woman philosopher. Cambridge University Press. James, S. (1999). The philosophical innovations of Margaret Cavendish. British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 7, 219–244. Keller, E. F. (2000). Making sense of life: Explanation in developmental biology. In R. Creath & J. Maienschein (Eds.), Biology and epistemology (pp. 244–261). Cambridge University Press. Keller, E. F. (2002). Making sense of life. Harvard University Press. Keller, E. F. (2005). Ecosystems, organisms, and machines. BioScience, 55, 1069–1074. Keller, E. F. (2007). The disappearance of function from ‘self-organizing systems’. In F. C. Boogerd, F. J. Bruggeman, J.-H. S. Hofmeyr, & H. V. Westerhoff (Eds.), Systems biology (pp. 303−317). Elsevier. Keller, E. F. (2008). Organisms, machines, and thunderstorms: A history of self-organization, part one. Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences, 38, 45–75. Keller, E. F. (2009a). Self-organization, self-assembly, and the origin of life. In A. Barberousse, M. Morange, & T. Pradeu (Eds.), Mapping the future of biology (pp. 131–140). Springer. Keller, E. F. (2009b). Self-organization, self-assembly, and the inherent activity of matter. In The Hans Rausing Lecture 2009b (pp. 7−18). Uppsala University. Keller, E. F. (2018). Physics in biology—Has D’Arcy Thompson been vindicated? The Mathematical Intelligencer, 40, 33–38. Lascano, M. P. (2013). Anne Conway: Bodies in the spiritual world. Philosophy Compass, 8, 327–336. Longino, H. E. (2002). Marjorie Grene’s philosophical naturalism. In R. E. Auxier & L. E. Hahn (Eds.), The philosophy of Marjorie Grene (pp. 83–101). Open Court Publishing Company. Mercer, C. (2012). Knowledge and suffering in early modern philosophy: G.W. Leibniz and Anne Conway. In Sabrina Ebbersmeyer (ed) Emotional minds: the passions and the limits of enquiry in early modern philosophy. de Gruyter, Göttingen, 179−206. Merchant, C. (1979). The vitalism of Anne Conway: Its impact on Leibniz’s concept of the monad. Journal of the History of Philosophy, 17, 255–269. O’Neill, E. (1998). Disappearing ink: early modern women philosophers and their fate in history. In J.A. Kourany (ed) Philosophy in a feminist voice: critiques and reconstructions. Princeton University Press. Princeton, 17−62. O’Neill, E. (2013). Margaret Cavendish, Stoic Antecedent Causes, and Early Modern Occasional Causes. Revue philosophique de la France et de l’étranger 138, 311–326 Schroeder, S. (2007). Anne Conway’s place: A map of Leibniz. The Pluralist, 2, 77–99. Thomas, E. (2017). Time, space and process in Anne Conway. British Journal for the History of Philosophy, 25, 990–1010. Whitaker, K. (2002). Mad Madge: The extraordinary life of Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, the first woman to live by her pen. Basic Books. White, C. (2008). The legacy of Anne Conway. State University of New York Press.

Anna Frammartino Wilks received her Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Toronto and is full-time Instructor II in the Department of Philosophy at Acadia University. Her research interests include metaphysics, epistemology and ethics in Kant and Early Modern Philosophy, with a

70

A. F. Wilks

focus on causality, substance, mind and self. Current research projects also include philosophy of biology and artificial intelligence.

Chapter 6

A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal

Abstract It was the nineteenth century English politician and writer Disraeli who wrote in his book, Contarini Fleming: “read not history: nothing but biography, for that is life without theory.” Today, it does not make sense to discern between biography and history. Biography has become a genre itself. In this chapter, I intend to recreate Maria Sibylla Merian’s life by putting together loose pieces, collected here and there, from which not only a whole picture of her and her work should emerge, but also a general view of her time, her family, the places where she lived, and her cultural influences. Merian was an important insect and flower painter and entomologist in her time, and also a mother in charge of her two daughters. My aim is to help develop insight into her influence both on her own society and on subsequent generations of entomologists, including that her work and innovations were nearly forgotten by history.

Sic Meriana oculis, gestu, sin pingitur ore, Ingenii dotes pingere nemo potest. Imperii sua fama priùs exorta sub axe est In variis mundi denique sparse locis. Haec insectorum stimulata cupidine, formas, Naturam, ac varios noscere nata modos, Queis immutentur; detexit America vermes Huic invisa suos, imperiumque suos; Quaelibet ad vivum penicillo (Appelle stupente) Exhibet illa suo, dexteritate nova. Vidit ut, ejecto erucae quod femine mortem N. F. Díaz-Cabal (B) Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain University of New Haven, West Haven, CT, USA University of Shanghai, Shanghai, China © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_6

71

72

N. F. Díaz-Cabal Cum vita mutent, reptile fiat avis, Sic ad fidereas, simili sibi prole realista Illa plagas, modò humilfessa rependo, volat. Haec ancilla bona et fida est, quae quinque recepit, Mille talenta suo reddidit illa Deo. (Salomon de Perez, Preface to “Erucarum ortus, alimentum et paradoxa metamorphosis”, 1718) The career of Maria Sibylla Merian was a strange and adventurous one. (“Chamber’s Journal of Literature, Sciences and Art”, 1860) As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from restless dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous insect. (Franz Kafka, “The Metamorphosis”) What the philosopher is seeking is not truth, but rather the metamorphosis of the world into man. (Friedrich Nietzsche)

6.1 Introduction and Historical Context We need a certain descriptive proficiency to articulate the heteroclite virtues of a woman like Maria Sibylla Merian. She was a naturalist, botanist, zoologist, entomologist, painter, illustrator, and a brilliant rara avis, predecessor of Karl Linnaeus.1 Predecessor not just in the chronological sense of the term, but also because she was likely a model for the important contributions he would make to botany.2 Before Linnaeus had collected insects and plants, Maria Sibylla did. Before he had illustrated his findings, Maria Sibylla did. He was without a doubt a taxonomist. She, instead, was a naturalist and an observer. When we look at Merian’s contributions to art and botany in the Enlightenment period, it might seem that she was a standout in her time, a lone woman among men detached from the genealogy of her female contemporaries. A closer look, however, reveals that while she was unique, she was not alone. 1

“The second Adam”, “the greatest genius”…according to Rousseau and Goethe respectively…“The Plinius of the North”, “The prince of botany”…In sum, a woman in a world of men. For the rest, although in a strict sense Merian was a pioneer she certainly was strongly influenced by some of her most distinguished contemporary male peers, like the Dutch artist Jan Goedaert or Jan Jacob Swammerdam. The first one was the author of “Metamorphosis Naturalis”, a series of drawings on metamorphosis but without asking himself the origin of such metamorphosis or the way it worked. The second one published “Historia Insectorum Generalis”, a compilation of drawings, descriptions and observations that included the same ongoing mistakes from Aristotle’s time. In the previous century, the so-called “father of modern Zoology”, Conrad Gessner, published his own “Historia animalium”, which introduced an accurate nomenclature and classification of flora and fauna and meant a big step forward in the field of entomology. It is proven that for Merian he constituted an essential reference. 2 In his evaluations of Merian’s work there was both acknowledgement and criticism.

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

73

By the time Merian came along, the painter Judith Leyster had bequeathed her best works to humanity and Margaret Cavendish had already shown the world her multiple talents. While Merian is known to have traveled to places uncommon for a woman in the seventeenth–eighteenth centuries,3 so did Aphra Behn4 and Anna Muria van Schurman.5 Further, Merian’s achievements fit into an historical context in which women were beginning to frequent intellectual circles and were making their own voices heard, overcoming the gender barriers that had been insurmountable obstacles for their predecessors. For example, in countries like Spain women had begun to attend tertulias, or talk gatherings, which were equivalent to French Salons.6 These gatherings presented an opportunity for men and women to discuss political issues, philosophy or other matters, always in the context of a cultural atmosphere. Looking back to Merian’s childhood, we see that she was in many ways a product of her birthplace and upbringing. Merian was born in Frankfurt am Main on April 2, 1647, following more than 30 years of war between Catholics—allied with the Habsburg dynasty—and Protestants. At this time, the peace of Westphalia was on the horizon, preceded by long and hard negotiation processes. Frankfurt was a city where arts and culture flourished, and some conflicts between guilds (mostly led by Jewish from the ghetto) and council resulted in an important pogrom. Immediately after that, a plague would devastate the city. Maria Sibylla Merian was still a baby when Peter Stuyvesant arrived in New York (then called New Amsterdam) and for the first time a woman accused of being a witch was executed on American soil. While details about her mother remain controversial, her father, a widower when he married her mother, was Matthäus Merian, a German born in Switzerland who became a publisher and engraver close to occultist positions. He was the Editor, amongst others, of Theatrum Europaeum, a historical work published between 1633 and 1738 in 21 volumes, where narrations on the Thirty Years War were collected and illustrated with about 140 engravings. He also published Topographien (Topographia Germaniae), in 1642. When Maria Sibylla was three years old her father died. She had a half-brother, fruit of the first marriage of her father, later known as Merian the Young, who followed 3

In turn, these travels—along with Labadism—influenced the development of her thought. Aphra Behn also traveled to Surinam when she was a child and as a consequence of her stay in the Antillean lands, wrote her famous text “Oroonoko” about slavery. 5 Anna Muria van Schurman was a multifaceted writer, painter, translator, shaped in her artistic excellence by other illustrious women such as Anna Roemers. 6 Some of those relevant women were María Blanca Álava y Arigón, from whom no works are preserved, but it is documented that she cultivated history and poetry and had a good knowledge of Latin. She lived between the seventh and the eighth century. Another notable case was Rosario Cepeda, born in Cádiz in 1756, who was only 12 when she was accepted in a Women’s Society of her town after having proved her mastery in the translation of the work of the Greek poet Anacreon. She was able to speak several languages and organized herself some tertulias at her home around the 60s of the eighth century. Mariana de Alderete, Marquise of la Rosa del Monte, was famous because of her knowledge of rhetoric, philosophy and mastery in several classical languages. Madame Stael and Mademoiselle de Lespinasse or Madame Necker, just to mention a few, were brilliant women engaged in the salons. 4

74

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

his father’s footsteps. Her mother remarried a short time after to another widower, the flower painter Jacob Marrel, who already had a number of children. Maria Sibylla grew up surrounded by the rest of her half-brothers, half-sisters, stepbrothers and stepsisters. She was a happy, even privileged, child. Jacob was not only a good father, but also the person who most encouraged her to paint by her own, after having detected that she had an exceptional talent. They were living in the outskirts of the city and she, like Virginia Woolf a few centuries later, had a room of her own (and an exceptional tutor as well: Abraham Mignon, a close friend of her stepfather, a Dutch golden age painter devoted to flower bouquets paintings). While her stepfather was painting still life, she preferred painting living animals, mainly insects, or plants, which she collected carefully as models for her works. She started when she was thirteen and her spirit of inquisitiveness never abandoned her. She was conscious of being a painter but not yet an entomologist, which would be her true profession as she grew up. In the period of her maturity she reflected on art and nature, and she clearly identified each with the other: “Art and nature shall always be wrestling until they eventually conquer one another so that the victory is the same stroke and line: that which is conquered, conquers at the same time” (see references). Although her first paintings were full of delicate flowers—due, probably, to the influence of her stepfather—she soon started her series of paintings where insects became the most prominent elements in her images. Several times she explained about herself that she spent her younger years investigating insects. Some people are able to discover the child they used to be deep inside themselves: sometimes a satisfied kid, sometimes a frustrated one, but always a child, asking, waiting, assuming. Even as she matured, the child still alive inside Merian was a being full of curiosity and definitely touched by the grace of the determination.

6.2 The Girl and the Caterpillars: An Entomologist Is Born According to Aristotle’s thesis on the origin of some species (accepted and spread by the Christian Church for centuries) something “beautiful” arises by spontaneous generation.7 In the Aristotelian view monsters have to be perceived as chance substances and in the same way, chance substances arise by spontaneous generation, that is, with no previous seeds in their background. Anaximander, Thales, Plato and other philosophers shared this theory, but it was Aristotle who developed it systematically. Contrary to this widely held view, and only a few years before Merian’s birth, the Italian physician Francesco Redi8 coined the expression “omne vivum ex vivo” in the Latin version or “all that is alive comes from something living”: it was the first time that someone was denying Aristotle’s omnipresent theory.9

7

Aristotle, De animalibus (according to the translated version of Michael Scot). Redi, F. (1668). Esperienze intorno alla generazione degl’insetti. 9 Redi feared to suffer the same fate as Galilei did. There was no salvation for the heretics. 8

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

75

Merian followed this trend of thought, which was dangerously close to heresy. From such a starting point she proved that the dazzling butterfly comes from the unattractive and unpleasant caterpillar.10 The metamorphosis means the rise of life in the middle of the chaos and ongoing change. That process was just the beginning of everything for her. The chrysalis wasn’t a secret to her. However, there was, again, an enormous difference between Merian’s approach and the approach of many of her contemporary male peers; she was not only interested in the description of plants and insects, but also how they live and die, i.e., in the biological cycles. In other words: she was not a taxonomist, but a naturalist. Maria Sibylla did not need to use a knife to explore the insects from inside; she preferred the observation of living insects, the way they act and behave. In other words, she privileged field work in order to have a broad perspective on life cycles. In that sense, she was closer to the nineteenth century methods of research and to Bacon’s conviction, expressed some decades before Merian’s birth, that science needs to be based on experimentation.11 The culmination of her work was compiled in the book “Der Raupen wunderbare Verwandlung und sonderbare Blumennahrung” (“The caterpillar wonderful transformation and weird flower food”), published in 1679, a work where it is clear that she also pioneered books on natural issues using a vernacular language (in her case, German) in a period of history where Latin was the lingua franca. An excerpt from the work is as follows: Their [the larvae] size increases by the day, especially when they have enough food. Some then attain their full size in several weeks; others can require up to two months. Many shed their skins completely three or four times, just as a person pulls off a shirt over his head....12

In the whole book there were 50 plates that subsequently she personally transformed into a copper-etched engraving. In the drawings she reflected the 4 different stages of the metamorphosis: egg, larva, pupa, and adult. Her scientific findings and detailed descriptions constituted a study book where she takes special care in representing the mentioned-stages in a context that could be called “closed cycle”: a fodder plant that allowed the reader not only the possibility of seeing the insects but also the particularities of their habitat. The delicacy of the detail would be one of the main features—if not the most prominent—in Merian’s work.

10

Merian, M. S. (1705). Metamorphosis insectorum surinamensium. Bacon, F. (1620). Novum organum. Bacon, F. (1620). De dignitate et augmentis scientiarum. 12 Merian, M. S. (1679). Der Raupen wunderbare Verwandlung und sonderbare Blumennahrung. 11

76

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

6.3 Vital Changes in the Life of a Young Naturalist Maria Sibylla married the painter Johann Andreas Graff in Germany when she was only 18,13 and they had two girls, Johanna Helena and Dorothea Maria. The family left Frankfurt to settle in Nuremberg, the city where Graff came from and that, at the time, was a center of intellectual and economic activity, whose products reached China and India, and whose famous Goldene Strasse connected the city with Prague and with other big cities in Eastern Europe. During 10 years of marriage she was sketching lots of insects and all this content was compiled in “New book of flowers”, an impressive three volume work consecutively published in 1675 and 1677. At the same time she also concentrated on other activities, like embroidery, in which she had proven mastery by teaching some ladies from the high society, avid for knowledge and for looking for a place in that society where women were taken into account just for “irrelevant tasks”. Merian was also commissioned by the margrave from BadenBaden, for whom she conceived some paintings whose main patterns were birds and flowers. In the same period of her marriage, when she was 28 years old, she attended the Art Academy (Teutsche Akademie) of Joachim von Sandrart, acclaimed painter and engraver, who also used to be a translator and who was considered the first art historian in history. She left both, her husband and her country, in 1685—although already in 1681 she returned to Frankfurt with her children when her mother who was freshly widowed remained alone. Later she moved to The Netherlands together with her mother and children,14 and they lived in the Waltha pietist community,15 in Western Friesland near 13

Johann Andreas Graff was a German painter, engraver and publisher, born in Nuremberg in 1636 and died in the same city in 1701. He is the author of several engravings with some views of his native city. 14 She had already published several of her most famous books. Two years before leaving Germany she brought to light the second volume of her book Der Raupen wunderbare Verwandlung und sonderbare Blumennahrung, a text of motley typography and profusely illustrated, and basically devoted to flowers in its description and to the insects in the plates. It also includes an opening poem written by Christof Arnold, a poet from Nuremberg. With respect to the reasons for leaving her country and her husband there are different versions, and we would like to give due credit to the one of Elizabeth Fries Ellet (a writer from the nineteenth century who became famous mainly because of her disputes with Edgar Allan Poe) published in 1859, Women Artists in All Ages and Countries, that sustains that the affairs of Graff were so “embarrassing” that he in fact left his family and his country. Abandoned and humiliated, Merian never used her married surname again. 15 It could be relevant to point out, on this issue, how important Labadism (you have to explain what is Labadism for those not familiar with the term) was in attracting intellectually talented women to be integrated into the everyday life of the community, maybe because, despite the duties related to faith and discipline, women had freedom to cultivate their spirits and minds. It would be enough to remember the paradigmatic story of Anna Maria van Schuurman, born 4 decades before Maria Sibylla, or the case of Elisabeth of the Palatinate. Both women, by the way, corresponded with each other, and with other contemporary intellectuals of their times, like Descartes, in the case of Elisabeth, or Constantijn Huygens, Bathsua Makin or Queen Christina of Sweden, in the case of Anna Maria. There is no doubt that women found a propitious ground to make intellectual links more solid and cultural networks wider. On the other hand, Labadism attracted to its cause not only

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

77

Amsterdam, in a castle property of Cornelis van Sommelsdijk, governor of Surinam, Dutch colony in South America. The first year was rather turbulent, since not only her beloved brother Caspar was dead, but also her husband went to the castle to bring her and her daughters back to Germany. During that year she could not concentrate on her paintings and notes. Life in the community was very demanding, and a lot of hours a day were devoted to the cultivation of the land. However there is no evil that lasts a hundred years, and some time later the quiet life in Amsterdam would allow her to visit exotic shops of birds, plants, specific museums, orangeries and to concentrate on solitary artistic activities in which she proved to be a master. In the meantime she gained a lot of admirers, most of them belonging to a bourgeoisie avid for artistic novelties. For example, at the request of Agnes Block, a Dutch Mennonite art collector and horticulturalist she painted some botanical watercolors. Amsterdam was, at that time, a flourishing city where intellectuals and philosophers like Spinoza, Locke or Descartes were welcomed, as well as people persecuted for religious reasons, like jansenists, mennonites or huguenots. The whole city was peppered, here and there, with print shops (around 250 in total) and many newspapers emerged with unstoppable impulse. On the other hand, a consolidated merchant class drove the art: everybody with a minimally healthy income aspired to be immortalized by means of gorgeous portraits: it was the Golden Age of painters like Frans Hals, Jan Vermeer, and Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn. Merian could not find a better scenario for her own endeavors.

6.4 Surinam: The Tropic, Its Light and Its Risks Merian’s proximity to Surinam’s governor materialized a fact that ended up being one of the most relevant experiences of her life: the possibility of going to Surinam.16 This was 1699, when Merian was already 52 years old, at a time before Charles Darwin and Alexander von Humboldt. She was a pioneer, traveling there with her youngest daughter without financial support. In order to cover the expenses of her travel, she sold many of her paintings. Both Merian and her daughter left behind the peaceful members of the European royalties, as we just could see, but also some reputed experts of all kind, like i.e. Hendrik van Deventer, with a good knowledge of chemistry and medicine, and one of the first obstetricians in Holland. 16 It is also believed that Nicolaas Witsen, former director of the Dutch East India Company and other relatives of his, had some plantations in Surinam and kept a collection of rarities that they later sent to Amsterdam. Some documents state that Maria Sibylla would have seen some Surinamese insects that she could examine from the previous decade on her travel to Surinam. As a general context, it is important to recall that after 1700 Surinam became a colony under the complete control of the Surinam Society (created in 1683), the Dutch West Indies Company and the Van Sommelsdijk family, closely connected to the merchant world and protectors of Merian. The native population lived in a regime of slavery, whose slave-masters, owners of the plantations, gradually formed and consolidated a the middle-class in the colony. Most slaves were of African origin (in the time Merian there were about 53,000 slaves, an overwhelming large number compared to the 5,000 Europeans living there).

78

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

streets of Amsterdam and replaced them with the smell of burned sugar cane, by the plagues and fevers that threatened human existence (and shaped it) all the time, by the sweet flavor of unknown exotic fruits. It was, literally, the New World, also in terms of insects, voracious and omnipresent. She spent two years collecting plants and insects, and recording every detail, with patience and tenacity. Mother and daughter spent the first period of their stay in the labadist plantation Providentia before they transferred to the capital, Paramaribo. They worked as a team for two years, walking through the rainforests, collecting insects, describing and drawing them. At the end of June 1701, affected by malaria, Merian took the long and difficult journey back to Holland, arriving in September of that year with her daughter and trunks containing exotic specimens. She then published Metamorphosis of the Insects of Surinam, an impressive collection of beetles, cockroaches and butterflies.

6.5 Back to The Netherlands: Weaving Webs Towards Entrepreneurship Once back in The Netherlands, Merian went through some difficult times and began to weave a network of contacts that allowed her to take on a career as an entrepreneur during the last years of her life (in fact we could affirm that the natural history became a field of business thanks, among some other contemporaries, to her; on the other hand, collectionism began to reveal its more commercial side). One of her contacts was Johann Christoph Volkamer, a German merchant and botanist, especially interested in the study of citrus. Her other main contact was the apothecary James Petiver from London, who was at one time an entomologist himself, and who always admitted how important the first two of Merian’s volumes on metamorphosis were in his own study of insects, i.e., in his most famous book published in 1695 under the title of Musei Petiveriani centuria prima. Besides that, Merian played a main role in providing him with a lot of South American specimens. Petiver traveled to The Netherlands at least once in 1711, where he met her, and also the entomologist Paul Herman and the natural philosopher Hermann Boerhaave. Of course, although both were crucial in the exchanging of specimens and their respective (and no doubt fruitful) correspondence with Merian,17 she also had an active contact with other Dutch naturalists like Caspar Commelin (director of the Hortus Botanicus Amsterdam for a long time), Livinus Vincent (merchant and collector of naturalia) and Frederik Ruysch (who basically worked as a surgeon). Apparently the exchange among all of them was intense and regular.18 In any case, whereas Volkamer was rather a patron who paid Merian for her contributions, Petiver 17

It is well-known that, in her last years, Merian collected and sold specimens and watercolors. The latter were not only painted by herself but also by her daughter Johanna Helena. 18 Other letters, previous to her American travel, where her close friend Dorothea Auer or her dead brother Caspar were loyal interlocutors, remain unfortunately lost.

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

79

was a real friend with whom exchange took place in an atmosphere of harmony and equality. We should also mention that, in that clearly male dominated world, she also corresponded with some women (many of them her pupils), like the German artist, Clara Regina Imhoff.19 Thanks to that solid web of relationships she could publish her book on insects from Surinam, Metamorphosis Insectorum Surinamensium. In 1705, between the first books and the last one she had had an epiphany: the discovery of light, the fascination by iridescent and giant insects, and not only insects. In fact, the book also speaks about spiders, amphibians and reptiles. Her classification of butterflies and moths is in place still today. With respect to these particular coleoptera she wrote in the preface: “I have created the first classification of all insects with pupa, the capillar that fly during the day, and the owl butterfly, that fly during the night. The second classification has to do with worms, caterpillars, flies and bees. I kept the name of the plants, since they were used in America by its inhabitants and Indians” (see reference). At the same time, Merian had the perception that her book had an excellent reception from the public: “For the realization of this work I was not greedy, but I considered myself satisfied as soon as I recovered what I disbursed. I didn’t spare any expense. I ensured the plates to be engraved by a famous master and I got the best paper to satisfy not only the art lovers but also the insect fans, and I am very happy when I hear that I reached my goal and that I make them happy at the same time” (see reference).

6.6 Final Years: Decline and Obscurity Life was not easy after Merian came back from Surinam. Together with her daughters she launched several projects that failed shortly after. In fact, between 1701 and 1705 they underwent ongoing financial troubles. Urged by her current circumstances she started working for Georg Everhard Rumphius, a Dutch merchant, naturalist and adventurer, who gained fame thanks to his work Herbarium Amboinense, an awesome

19

Although in a short footnote we would like to emphasize that in the Dutch cultural context of that time, in the full flourishing of the Golden Age, several women played an important role as artists and pioneers. Just to mention a few of her female contemporaries we should remind allegoric painters and portraitists like Diana Glauber, Anna Cornelia Holt and Sophia Holt; the flowers painters Maria von Oosterwijkck, Maria Margaretha van Os and Anna Ruysch, daughter of the good Merian’s friend, Frederik Ruysch; the landscape painter Catharina van Knibbergen. And specially those women who were naturalist painters and that sometimes worked together with Merian or her daughters, like Maria Monninckx or Alida Withoos; in a less prominent position was the painter of insects Margaretha de Heer. In the wake of Merian there were other naturalist women, like Elizabeth Blackwell, who in 1739 published A Curious Herbary. Later on reference can also be made, for example, to Linnaeus’ daughter Elizabeth Christina, who discovered the luminous properties of some flowers, and even the discoverer and collector of fossils, Mary Anning, died when she was 47.

80

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

catalogue on the Indonesian flora, particularly because of his Amboinsche Rariteitskamer, a book of rarities based on the idea of the popular cabinets of curiosities.20 Her book on Surinam’s insects was a great success. When it appeared in 1705 it was conceived with some ingenious novelties. For example, the plate on each page was the result of a “soft printing” in which only a light profile of the patterns appeared. This meant that Merian and her daughters offered each reader the opportunity to paint the rest completely, as a form of “personalized service”. Unfortunately, even this activity was not enough to avoid the economic ruin of the family. In the final years of her life she could still see some of her works published in Dutch. Specifically, her book on metamorphosis, under the title Rupsen Begin, voedzel en Wonderbaare Verandering, was personally translated and reviewed by Merian,21 and Gerard Valk published it in 1713 and 1714 in Amsterdam. In 1715 she suffered a stroke that seriously limited her movements and that forced her to use a wheelchair. Even in that period of distress and suffering, Merian intended to produce work together with her daughters. It was not possible. Although she received important visitors like the erudite German scholar Zacharias Conrad von Uffenbach, who bought some of her works, it was not enough to save them. Not even the visit of Peter the Great,22 the Russian monarch, shortly before her death, could mitigate her situation of progressive decline. Peter the Great, who deeply admired her works, bought a large amount of her paintings to bring back to Saint Petersburg where they remained forever in the hands of private collectors. When Maria Sibylla Merian died on January 13th, 1717, her final status was clear: pauper, which means extremely poor and living from public charity. She was buried at the cemetery of the Leische Church, in Amsterdam. Thanks to her daughter Dorothea Maria, the third volume was issued immediately after Merian’s death in 1717.23 Following Merian’s death, one version in Latin appeared, Erucarum Ortus, Alimentum et Paradoxa Metamorphosis, edited by Johannes Oosterwijk in Amsterdam. Finally, this work was re-published in an expanded edition, first in Dutch, De Europische insects, and later in French, Histoire des insectes de l’Europe, whose first edition came to light in the Hague in 1726 and the second one in Amsterdam in 1730.

20

The cabinet of curiosities emerged as a phenomenon in the European context of the sixteenth century. 21 Guided as usual by practical sense, she affirmed that “Hochdeutsch is not useful in this country”. 22 Diverse sources differ in their versions. Whereas in some of them Peter the Great was personally in Amsterdam, according to others only Robert Areskin, court physician of the Russian monarch, was there. In any case they bought some watercolors and engravings, worth three thousand guilders. It is well known that, be that as it may, Areskin also bought the Flowers Book for himself. 23 In the year of Merian’s death her daughter Dorothea sold several engravings and texts from the flowers and caterpillar books, and the book on Surinam’s insects out of financial necessity.

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

81

6.7 When Death Is Not the End Throughout the eighteenth century Merian’s works were reissued with unequal fortune. As was aforementioned, In 1718, the year following her death, her book Erucarum ortus, alimentum et paradoxa metamorphosis was published in Latin for the first time. Several editions came after that, at least until the end of that century. Her works became obligatory reference in other books and researches. In A Biographical Dictionary of Engravers, authored by Joseph Strutt, published in 1786, he actually acknowledges her as an eminent entomologist (it is also true that, in that specific case, she was prominent as the daughter of a famous engraver rather than due to her own merits and talent). She was also quoted and recognized in the book Hortus Kewensis or A Catalogue of the Plants Cultivated in the Royal Botanic Garden at Kew, that William Aiton, gardener of His Majesty, published with the greatest of care. She was even mentioned by Johann Wolfgang Goethe in his Complete Works, Volume IV. In 1793 James Robson included the titles of her main works in his A catalogue of valuable books in all languages and sciences. Shepperson and Reynolds mentioned her work in their A catalogue of an Eminent Divine, Deceased; and several valuable collections of books, recently purchased, in 1789. A case apart and totally singular was Carl Linnaeus, who was only ten years old when Maria Sibylla Merian died, and who probably found in her a source of inspiration. Although he will remain in history as a father of botany, he owes her some of his findings. He referred several times to her exquisite paintings of plants and to the naming and classification of about 100 animal species.24 Throughout the nineteenth century, however, the cabinet of rarities began to fade as a scientific practice and many of Merian’s statements and observations were questioned, like Buffon had already done at the end of the eighteenth century in his Natural History, by saying everything Merian had said about the frog from Surinam was wrong: “the damsel Merian (described) a more than unbelievable metamorphosis”, explained with a certain disdain. An extremely short mention (scarcely three lines) is also done in The Flemish, Dutch and German Schools of Paintings, published in 1822 by John Thomas James, 24

For Linnaeus naming was extremely important, to the extent of stating in his Philosophia Botanica, 1751: “If you don’t know the names of things, the knowledge of them is lost, too” or “Nomenclature, the other foundation of botany, should provide the names as soon as the classification is made...If the names are unknown knowledge of the things also perishes...For a single genus, a single name”, or even “The names of the plants ought to be stable certa, consequently they should be given to stable genera”. It goes back to the old debate launched by Quintilian about the certainty or uncertainty of a definition going beyond the use of a term and putting the focus on what a term includes. In the Plato’s “Cratylus” Hermogenes clarifies Cratylus’ position, insisting that “everything has a right name of its own which comes by nature...there is a kind of inherent correctness in the names...”. Aristotle, in his The Organon, postulates the essentialist verbal reference in the linguistic taxonomy of the species. It was an old discussion, as old as the human being itself: all what language doesn’t reach becomes darkness. Linnaeus made a point to what he considered Merian’s “absence of names”. However he used the names suggested by Merian for animals from Surinam. In fact he relied on her drawings. For the insects that he had never examined personally he accepted Merian’s name and renamed them in Latin.

82

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

in Oxford. Thereafter her fame declined progressively and even the references to her work were formulated in a negative light. For example, in the Magazine of Natural History, from 1834, the naturalist Landsdown Guilding said that in her book on Surinam’s insects some inaccuracies could be detected. Actually he affirms that with a categorical statement: Merian’s book on Surinam was crawling with mistakes. Not even the drawings were worthy, and called “anthropological sparkle” her book. Further, Guilding never missed the opportunity to point out that Merian was “just a woman”. Some other mentions here and there appear disseminated by the works of William Jardine (Naturalist Library, 1852) or Christian Friedrich Gollhard (Historisch-geographisches gemälde von Deutschland, 1835). In the 1830s, William Sharp McLeay25 spread the belief that both the figure of the Ur, Leilus larva, conceived by Merian and her ideas of metamorphosis were “unworthy of credit”. In other books, like Massagetae-Muridae, published in 1839, the brief review of her life contained in it, highlights with particular emphasis on her links to some relevant men. So, she starts appearing as the daughter, wife or pupil of someone else. It was the slow but inexorable path to the definitive death. The first step was the degradation of her work. And thereafter the progressive process to silencing.26 In the middle of the nineteenth century, Schiebinger blamed Merian for establishing wrong categories of some insects in such a way that she misled Linnaeus, being the reason he made mistakes in naming them. Of course, Merian was a kind of Eve who somehow bit the apple: the origin of the error. She was the error herself. Linnaeus, if anything, her victim.27 In the Quarterly Review from 1865, edited by John Murray in London, they speak at length about Merian and her “heresies”: This estimable lady, amongst other curiosities on natural history, affirmed the following: 1. The lantern-fly emits so strong a light from its body as to enable a person in the night-time to read a newspaper by it. 2. The large spider enters the nest of the little humming-birds, and destroys the inmates. It would occupy too much time to tell of the mass of evidence which was adduced in denial of these recorded facts, but, suffice it to say, that Madame Merian was set down as an arch-heretic and inventor, and that no credit was attached to her statements. With regards to 25

William Sharp McLeay was a British entomologist (1792–1865). He was the creator of the Quinarian System of Classification of Species (into groups and subgroups). 26 Special mention deserves the book Women Artists in All Ages and Countries, from Elizabeth Fries Ellet, published in 1859, that we have already mentioned before and that includes a biography of Merian using laudatory wordings. 27 In the meantime at the end of the century other female entomologists emerged with crushing vigor specially in the Anglo-Saxon society, like the Americans Anna Botsford Comstock, devoted to insect illustration, famous for bringing her students to study nature outside, and Mary Treat of Vineland, who worked and corresponded with Darwin. We should also mention the British Eleanor Anne Ormerod. A new generation. A new perspective on insects, their lives and the way they impact in our own existence. The romantic aura around a non-existent profession, like in the case of Merian, made way for a new discipline taught in universities.

6 A Forgotten Name in the Natural History: Maria Sibylla Merian

83

first-named heresy (…) the fact was has been rather over-coloured by the imagination of the worthy lady (...).

Merian could survive the “heresy” of contradicting Aristotle’s principles, but she could not survive the severe judgements of later natural historians. The process to demolish her memory was unrelenting and unappealable until, in the 1950s when the British Museum purchased her works at a far from moderate price and integrated them in its collections (in the British Museum catalogue of 1815, however, some reference to the books of Merian appeared). The other legacy of Merian was her own offspring: the oldest of her daughters— Johanna Helena Herolt, from her marriage with Jakob Hendrik Herolt, became a painter, specializing in flowers and plant motifs, and immigrated to Surinam where she probably died at an unknown date, but certainly before 1723. During her life in Amsterdam she worked, like her mother did, for Agnes Block. The British Museum, the Royal Library in Windsor Castle, and the Herzog Anton Ultich Museum, from Brunswick, held some of her works. Merian’s youngest daughter, Dorothea, under the name of Dorothea Gsell, after her marriage with the Swiss painter Georg Gsell,28 also became a painter in Saint Petersburg, where she worked as a museum curator and professor at the Academy of Sciences. It is believed that many of the last plates of Maria Sibylla Merian were actually painted by her youngest daughter, who was also in charge of publishing her mother’s masterpieces posthumously. However, the Phoenix always rises again. In the 1980s, Germans started to become familiar with Merian’s work. In 1987, a stamp issued in the former Democratic Republic showed the entomologist and painter, and a LP with Mozart’s pieces displayed some of the most exuberant and delicate paintings of Merian. Finally, a 500 mark note put face to a young looking woman. The mutilated wings of the admired entomologist were revived and given a second chance.

Bibliography General References Aristotle. (1998). De animalibus. Leiden. Aristotle. (2015). The Organon. Verlag Jürgen Beck. Disraeli, B. (1832). Contarini Fleming. John Murray. Linnaeus, C. (1751). Philosophia Botanica. Godofr. Kiesewetter. Plato. (1997). Complete works. Hackett.

28

She first married a surgeon from Heidelberg, with whom she had a child who died. She became a widow some years after her mother’s death. Later she married Georg Gsell, a widower himself with 5 female children. With Georg Gsell she had a girl.

84

N. F. Díaz-Cabal

References on Maria Sibylla Merian and Her Works Aiton, W. (1789). Hortus Kewensis, or, a catalogue of the plants cultivated in the Royal Botanic Garden at Kew. George Nicol, Bookseller to His Majesty. Cabré, M., & de Carlos Varona, M. C. (2018). Maria Sibylla Merian y Alida Withoos: mujeres, arte y ciencia en la Edad Moderna. Editorial Universidad de Cantabria. de Buffon, M. (1969). Histoire naturelle, générale et particulière. Imprimerie Royale. Goethe, J. W. (1994). The collected works, Vol. IV. From my life. Poetry and truth. Princeton University Press. Goolhard, C. F. (1835). Historisch-geographisches Gemälde von Deutschland. Verlag von Siegmund Schmerber. Guilding, L. (1834). Magazine of natural history and journal of zoology, botany, mineralogy, geology and meteorology. A. Seottiswoode. James, T. (1822). The Flemish, Dutch, and German schools of painting. John Murray. Jardine, W. (1852). The natural history of the beetles. Henry G. Bohn. Massagetae-Muridae, Vol. XV. Murray, J. (1865). Quarterly review. John Murray. Pomeroy, S. (2017). Maria Sibylla Merian seen through her portraits. Academia.edu. https://www. academia.edu/34399224/Maria_Sibylla_Merian_Seen_Through_Her_Portraits Radovan, M. (2008). History of entomology and the discovery of insect parasitoids. Matthias Belivs University Proceedings, 4(1), 1–14. Robson, J. (1793). A catalogue of valuable books, in all languages and sciences (J. Robson, Ed.). Shepperson and Reynolds. (2010). A catalogue of the library of the eminent divine, deceased; and several valuable collections of books recently purchased. Creative Media Partners.

Direct References of Sibylla Merian’s Works Merian, M. S. (1905). Metamorphosis insectorum Surinamensium. Collection of William Schaus.

Natalia Fernández Díaz-Cabal is Professor of International and Intercultural Communication and Intercultural negotiation and resolution of conflicts at the Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona (2002-to present), at the University of New Haven (CEA-Study Abroad) and at the University of Shanghai. She is the author of several books and articles on gender violence, history of diseases and science, and intercultural communication, including: “La violencia sexual y su representación en la prensa” (2003), “Cuando el feminismo dijo sí al poder” (2013), “Polifemo y la mujer barbuda. Crónica (des) enfadada de un cáncer atípico” (2016), and “Perséfone se encuentra a La Manada. El trasluz de la violación” (Akal, 2019); “Interculturales y comunicativos. Una mirada crítica a la comunicación intercultural en tiempos pandémicos y distópicos” (Amazon, 2020) and is currently preparing a history of linguistics through women’s contributions to that field (Cambridge Scholars Publishing). She holds Ph.D.s in linguistics and Philosophy of Science.

Chapter 7

Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain and Blaise Pascal Jil Muller

Abstract Space and time are geometrical notions that Sophie Germain, a French mathematician, discusses on several occasions in her Pensées diverses, however not only in a geometrical way but also in terms of a philosophical and moral understanding: she speaks of a human’s lifespan, the space they occupy, their place in creation and the knowledge toward which they always aim. This mixture of mathematical and philosophical thinking brings out Germain’s dream: she wants to apply the language of numbers to moral and political issues. As such this chapter aims to examine Germain’s mathematical understanding of space and time in order to discover her moral theory. Furthermore, in a purely hypothetical context (because one does not know which authors she has read), I compare Germain’s moral thinking to Pascal’s moral and mathematical thoughts in Pensées. We underline the possible inspiration by Pascal by highlighting the similarities between these authors concerning space and time, which both treat mathematically and philosophically. These authors agree that time and space can be measured, and thus provide constant and mathematically uniform elements. At the same time, time and space provide the framework for moral thinking. The latter is not “capable” of enjoying the present moment; he is on a quest for the future. For Germain, this results into knowledge, but for Pascal, this is a sign of an unhappy life in which people do not find rest and are constantly looking for a diversion.

J. Muller (B) Paderborn University, Paderborn, Germany © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_7

85

86

J. Muller

7.1 Introduction Sophie Germain is generally known as a mathematician who, “helped shape the foundation of two branches of mathematics: number theory and mathematical physics.”1 As a result, she is often mentioned together with Gauss, Lagrange, Euler, and Legendre, who contributed, each in their own way, to the mathematical revolution of their time. However, Germain was not only a mathematician and physicist, but also a philosopher, as evidenced by two writings: Considérations générales sur l’état des sciences et des lettres aux différentes époques de leur culture and Pensées diverses. These were published after her death in 1833 by her nephew JacquesArmand Lherbette.2 These two philosophical works are impressive, showing a strong self-confidence: for Germain, the human mind is capable of discovering the highest truths, and this is thanks to criteria of judgment, which Germain borrows directly from mathematics. In morality, as in all other intellectual judgments, the criteria of unity, order, and proportion help to discover the truth: We have already noticed that there is a deep sense of unity, order, and proportion in us which serves as a guide to all our judgments. In moral things we derive from it the rule of the good; in intellectual things, we derive from it the knowledge of the true […]3

Everything in nature, every being has this character of order and unity, which can be measured, so that humans can discover these truths by applying mathematical understanding. And even in the domain of metaphysics and morality, Germain solicits the same method.4 If, by progress which even today seems beyond all reasonable hopes, the language of calculations were to become applicable to moral, political, and metaphysical questions, or to those which, having more to do with our way of feeling, compose the domain of taste, the resemblance of the formulae would make it evident that objects so diverse have among themselves the resemblance which the laws of being impart to them.5

Germain’s approach is not new in itself, but it is still revolutionary. Thinking about morality by integrating mathematical, geometrical, and physical concepts 1

Musielak (2020, IX). See for example: Toti Rigatelli (2007, 49–66). 3 Germain (1896, 104): « Nous avons déjà remarqué qu’il existe en nous un sentiment profond d’unité, d’ordre et de proportions qui sert de guide à tous nos jugements. Dans les choses morales, nous en tirons la règle du bien; dans les choses intellectuelles, nous y puisons la connaissance du vrai […].» See also Biedenkapp (1910, 21): “Where we find order, unity and proportion, they are a guarantee of truth, beauty and goodness […].” 4 Germain (1896, 109): « Dans la morale, dans la science, dans la littérature, dans les beaux-arts, nous cherchons toujours l’unité d’existence, l’ordre et les proportions entre les parties d’un même tout.» See also Biedenkapp (1910, 27). 5 Germain (1896, 143): « Si, par des progrès qui semblent encore aujourd’hui au-delà de toutes espérances raisonnables, la langue des calculs devenait applicable à des questions morales, politiques, métaphysiques, ou à celles qui, tenant davantage à notre manière de sentir, composent le domaine du goût, la ressemblance des formules rendrait évident que des objets si divers ont entre eux la ressemblance que leur impriment les lois de l’être.» 2

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

87

is also found, among others, in Blaise Pascal’s Pensées, even if the latter, unlike Germain, does not think humans are capable of knowing the truth because of our corrupted nature.6 However, Pascal’s and Germain’s works have one important point in common: that is the daring idea of extending calculation and mathematical reasoning to moral and political questions.7 As very little is known about Germain’s life and especially about how she learned mathematics, there is no direct evidence of what she may have read.8 However, one can imagine that she had access to the great classics: in astronomy, she names Galileo, Kepler, and Copernicus, in physics, she mentions Newton, Euler, and Gauss. Her philosophical work is said to be similar to Auguste Comte’s positivism, but one does not know which philosophers she has read. And yet, Dora Musielak has put forward a hypothesis: in her work Sophie’s Diary, Musielak suggests that Germain read the great philosophers of the Enlightenment, among which she explicitly names Blaise Pascal’s Pensées, which the fictional Germain is said to have read at the age of sixteen.9 That the ‘real’ Germain probably read Pascal’s mathematical writings cannot be dismissed: Pascal was himself in contact with Fermat10 (whose theorem Germain discusses on several occasions); she knew Pascal’s use of negative numbers, as well as his arithmetical triangle,11 and used mathematical induction,12 a method regularly attributed to Pascal as the first to use it. In this sense, one can hypothetically think that she even has read his more philosophical works and that she was inspired by him. Both, even if each in their way, can be considered Cartesians. They share the idea of a ‘mathematization’ of reality, that is, a mathematical and methodical understanding of the universe and humankind. Furthermore, they use a geometrical framework, with the principles of space and time, within which they want to think of morality. Given these parallels, I will try to highlight the similarities in the ideas and writing styles of Germain and Pascal, by analyzing the two important notions of time and space, because these two notions reveal not only the mathematical understandings of Germain and Pascal, but are also closely linked to their moral conceptions. By doing so, it will be possible to deduce Germain’s moral conception, which is rooted and therefore sometimes hidden, in her mathematical understanding. Consequently, I will examine how Germain defines space and time in her Pensées diverses, and following her definition, I will compare the different ideas found in Germain to those in Pascal’s fragments in the Pensées.

6

See Paré (2001, 68–72) and Wood (2013). See Loeffel (1987, 119–124). 8 See for example: Ornes (2009). 9 See Musielak (2012, 57, 127 and 141). And Musielak (2020, 144–145). 10 See on Pascal’s works and life for example: Chevalier (1922), Schmitz Dumoulin (1982). 11 See Loeffel (1987, 59–75). 12 See Flanders (2018). 7

88

J. Muller

7.2 Germain’s and Pascal’s “Definition” of Space and Time In Pensées diverses, Sophie Germain returns several times to the themes of space or time (or even to both simultaneously), which she treats at first sight in a geometrical or even physical way, but one can also detect in it her moral conception of the passing of time, of our duration on earth, and of the place that humans occupy in universal creation. The most significant note concerning Germain’s understanding of space and time is the fourth one: Space and time are what man proposes to measure; the one circumscribes his momentary existence; the other accompanies his successive existence. These two expanses are linked by a necessary relation which is motion. As soon as it is constant and uniform, space is known by time, time is measured by space. As we have said, man does not have constancy and uniformity in him: differently modified at each moment, he is changeable, uneven, and too little durable to be the measure of duration.13

In this note, Germain offers three main ideas concerning space and time: (1) space and time are measurable, (2) they are linked by motion, and (3) humans have no constancy nor uniformity. This recalls Germain’s main idea concerning intellectual judgments, i.e., the criteria of unity, order, and proportion, which I mentioned before. Space and time function according to this rule of order, proportion and unity. A similar idea linking together space, time, and movement can be found in Pascal’s fragment Esprit géométrique: These three things, which comprise the whole universe [movement, number, space], according to these words: Deus fecit omnia in pondere, in numero et mensura, have a reciprocal and necessary connection. For we cannot imagine movement without something that moves; and this thing being one, this unity is the origin of all numbers; and finally, since movement cannot be without space, we see these three things enclosed in the first. Time itself is also included: for motion and time are relative to each other; swiftness and slowness, which are the differences of motion, having a necessary relation to time.14

Like Germain, Pascal states that time and space are necessarily linked by motion, and that motion needs both of them. Time expresses different movements by speed or slowness, and space is the prerequisite for any movement. And even in Pascal, 13

Germain (1879, 236): « L’espace et le temps, voilà ce que l’homme se propose de mesurer; l’un circonscrit son existence momentanée; l’autre accompagne son existence successive. Ces deux étendues sont liées par une relation nécessaire qui est le mouvement. Dès qu’il est constant et uniforme, l’espace est connu par le temps, le temps est mesuré par l’espace. Nous l’avons dit, l’homme n’a point en lui la constance et l’uniformité: différemment modifié à chaque instant, il est changeant, inégal et trop peu durable pour être la mesure de la durée». 14 Pascal (1904–1914, t. IX, p. 255): « Ces trois choses, qui comprennent tout l’univers [mouvement, nombre, espace], selon ces paroles: Deus fecit omnia in pondere, in numero et mensura, ont une liaison réciproque et nécessaire. Car on ne peut imaginer de mouvement sans quelque chose qui se meuve; et cette chose étant une, cette unité est l’origine de tous les nombres; et enfin le mouvement ne pouvant être sans espace, on voit ces trois choses enfermées dans la première. Le temps même y est aussi compris: car le mouvement et le temps sont relatifs l’un à l’autre; la promptitude et la lenteur, qui sont les différences des mouvements, ayant un rapport nécessaire au temps». See Heess (1977, 33–55).

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

89

the idea of unity comes up: the ‘one’ thing that moves within a space, and links thus space and time, is the thing that gives unity, or proportion and order to our understanding. Movement, number, space, and time are, therefore, in a reciprocal relation, depending on each other and even defining each other. It will therefore be of interest to have a closer look at Germain’s three main ideas on space and time and analyze if we can find the same framework in Pascal. If he takes up the idea of unity, does he do the same for the ideas of proportion and order? In which sense, are time and space measurable for Germain and Pascal, which role does motion play, and how about the uniformity of humans in their lives?

7.3 Space and Time Are Measurable For Sophie Germain, space and time are measurable components, which play a role in the understanding and circumscribing of existence. If space is used to express existence in a precise moment, time is used to talk about the sequence of events, of the successive existence. This idea is deepened by another note on time, where she writes: “Time has only two real divisions: the past and the future, since the present is only the limit of the other two.”15 If we follow Germain’s path of thought, then time measures only the past and the future: time is used to speak about what has happened and about what will happen. But time cannot measure the present. This means that we do not have any precise time indication for the present because this time indication is already a space indication, as Germain wrote in the first note: “space circumscribes the momentary existence”. The following note reinforces this assumption: This activity (she means science) takes us out of the present and throws us into the future: without it, man only knows the nature that surrounds him or even that which immediately touches him. He remains in the place that his birth has marked for him and the rest of the universe is void for him.16

For Germain, science is built on the expectation that some efforts will bring results. As the memory of a thing or activity once done teaches us that this thing or activity is possible, humans will continue with these efforts to gain science and knowledge. In this context, science is linked to the past and future: the past teaches us what is possible, and the future offers us the hope of a gain in knowledge. Therefore, science “takes us out of the present”. Without science, Germain thinks that “man only knows the nature that surrounds him or even that which immediately touches him”. With this description, we understand that Germain thinks the present is linked 15

Germain (1879, 278): « Le temps a seulement deux divisions réelles: le passé et l’avenir, puisque le présent n’est que la limite des deux autres». 16 Germain (1879, 278): « Cette activité (la science) nous arrache au présent pour nous jeter dans l’avenir: sans elle, l’homme ne connaît que la nature qui l’environne, ou même celle qui le touche immédiatement. Il demeure à la place que sa naissance lui a marquée et le reste de l’univers est nul pour lui».

90

J. Muller

to space. Humans without science are ‘stuck’ in the present, at this moment where we only have access to the nature that is accessible to us right now, limited by our own existence and place of being. So, for Germain, time indicates the past and the future and is a major component of science, as it unifies past and future in the hope of knowledge. In another note, she writes: “[…] time constantly brings back and renews; if the love of science remains, if we are constant enough to follow it, each century will add a small degree of perfection to the knowledge acquired […].”17 Space, on the other hand, is linked to the present and what is immediately accessible to humans. Space is a momentary awareness of the environmental surrounding. The idea that humans never really live in the present, and that our own existence limits our experience of time and space can also be found in Pascal: We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours, and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more, and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists.18

For Pascal, humans do not consider the present. We are either absorbed by our past, which escapes us, or carried towards the future, which does not yet belong to us. In this quest for past and future times, we forget that we live in the present, so much so that we almost stop “living” in a race against time. Germain thinks that the present is never ‘actual’ to us because we have no means, linked to our conception of time, to measure it and therefore to think it. All our means are always directed towards the past and the future. Pascal underlines this same idea: according to him, humans cannot think about the present, because the present is not an end for us. Seeking our own happiness, we always looks for it in hope, therefore in the future.19 Let each one examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means; the future alone is our end. So, we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so.20 17

Germain (1879, 283): « […] le temps ramène et renouvelle sans cesse; si l’amour de la science subsiste, si nous sommes assez constants pour les suivre, chaque siècle ajoutera un petit degré de perfection aux connaissances acquises […]». 18 Pascal (1964, fragment 172 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 119): « Nous nous tenons jamais au temps présent. Nous anticipons l’avenir comme trop lent à venir, comme pour hâter son cours; ou nous rappelons le passé pour l’arrêter comme trop prompt: si imprudents, que nous errons dans les temps qui ne sont pas nôtres, et ne pensons point au seul qui nous appartient; et si vains, que nous songeons à ceux qui ne sont plus rien, et échappons sans réflexion le seul qui subsiste». 19 See Heess (1977, 65–68). 20 Pascal (1964, 120): « Que chacun examine ses pensées, il les trouvera toutes occupées au passé et à l’avenir. Nous ne pensons presque point au présent; et si nous y pensons, ce n’est que pour en prendre la lumière pour disposer de l’avenir. Le présent n’est jamais notre fin: le passé et le présent sont nos moyens; le seul avenir est notre fin. Ainsi nous ne vivons jamais, mais nous espérons de vivre; et, nous disposant toujours à être heureux, il est inévitable que nous ne le soyons jamais». See also Shiokawa (2008, 277). See Lazzeri (2001, 319–329).

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

91

For Pascal, there are two main problems with time and its measurements. On the one hand, as time ‘flows’ naturally, without the awareness of humankind, we can never be sure that we are not sleeping when feeling that time passes, and yet time can be measured even during sleep: Again, no person is certain, apart from faith, whether he is awake or sleeps, seeing that during sleep we believe that we are awake as firmly as we do when we are awake; we believe that we see space, figure, and motion; we are aware of the passage of time, we measure it; and in fact, we act as if we were awake. So that half of our life being passed in sleep, we have on our own admission no idea of truth, whatever we may imagine.21

On the other hand, the flow of time makes us each aware that our whole life is in vain and that nothing lasts for eternity. All efforts to catch that distant future also bring us to the end of our short time on earth.22 We thus live in perpetual fear of death, towards which we run by seeking to catch the future, and of the greatness of the universe, in which we each occupy only a very small place: “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me.”23 So long as we have not found the purpose of our lives (which according to Pascal will only be revealed to us through faith), we will not understand our condition in this precise time and space: I see those frightful spaces of the universe which surround me, and I find myself tied to one corner of this vast expanse, without knowing why I am put in this place rather than in another, nor why the short time which is given me to live is assigned to me at this point rather than at another of the whole eternity which was before me or which shall come after me. I see nothing but infinites on all sides, which surround me as an atom, and as a shadow which endures only for an instant and returns no more.24

For Pascal, time and space are the categories that define a human’s life, as opposed to God.25 Humans are limited in our duration (our time is counted) and in space (we have been given a precise place). Yet, and this is the paradox of human life, we are not content with this situation: we always seek to go beyond the present time (in a 21

Pascal (1964, fragment 434 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 183): « De plus, que personne n’a d’assurance, hors la foi, s’il veille ou s’il dort, vu que durant le sommeil on croit veiller aussi fermement que nous faisons; on croit voir les espaces, les figures, les mouvements; on sent couler le temps, on le mesure; et enfin on agit de même qu’éveillé; de sorte que, - la moitié de la vie se passant en sommeil, par notre propre aveu, où, quoi qu’il nous en paraisse, nous n’avons aucune idée du vrai, tous nos sentiments étant alors des illusions,- […]». 22 Pascal (1964, fragment 205 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 131): « Quand je considère la petite durée de ma vie, absorbée dans l’éternité précédant et suivant le petit espace que je remplis et même que je vois, abîmé, dans l’infinie immensité des espaces que j’ignore et qui m’ignorent, je m’effraie et m’étonne de me voir ici plutôt que là […]». See Paré (2001, 73). 23 Pascal (1964, fragment 206, p. 131): « Le silence éternel de ces espaces infinis m’effraie». 24 Pascal (1964, fragment 194, p. 125): « Je vois ces effroyables espaces de l’univers qui m’enferment, et je me trouve attaché à un coin de cette vaste étendue, sans que je sache pourquoi je suis plutôt placé en ce lieu qu’en un autre, ni pourquoi ce peu de temps qui m’est donné à vivre m’est assigné à ce point plutôt qu’en un autre de toute l’éternité qui m’a précédé et de toute celle qui me suit. Je ne vois que des infinités de toutes parts, qui m’enferment comme un atome et comme une ombre qui ne dure qu’un instant sans retour». 25 See Paré (2001, 74–76).

92

J. Muller

quest for the future) and we do not find rest in this assigned place.26 Pascal refers to the soul that is necessarily linked to this limited place that is the human body, from which it always seeks to break free. In the fragment on Diversion, he writes: “I have discovered that all the unhappiness of men arises from one single fact, that they cannot stay quietly in their own chamber.”27 The chamber here is not only the physical space, but also the conceptual space, i.e., a certain status in society, and one’s place in the universal creation. For Germain and Pascal, in the present and in this limited space, humans can be aware of our surroundings, but we always search for more: more space and more time. For Germain, this search for more leads to science, and for Pascal to diversion (which can be science too), but in the same way, disengages us from the present moment.

7.4 Space and Time Are Linked by Motion Sophie Germain speaks about a necessary relation between space and time, which is motion. This movement is calculated by a certain notion of speed, an idea we have already underlined in Pascal: “[…] for motion and time are relative to each other; swiftness and slowness, which are the differences of motion, having a necessary relation to time.”28 And Germain writes: In our way of conceiving an effect, the idea of time is inseparably linked to that of space: the notion of speed is born of their relationship. A greater speed presupposes a shorter time, and if, by the power of the imagination, we try to represent an infinite speed, we are always left with the idea of an infinitely small time. Time cannot be annihilated in our thinking.29

Time and space are therefore in a relation measured by speed and distance. When the speed increases, less time is needed to cover a space, a distance, or an area. The distance can be the same, but the speed defines the time needed. By that fact, motion is the key element in the relationship between time and space: motion is a variable component, which influences time according to the speed it adopts. This has an impact on the transmission of movement and speed from one object to another and on the transmission of gravity and/or attraction. To explain this idea, Germain refers to de la Place and even quotes him on his idea of time as a necessary component in the transmission of motion. 26

See Lyons (2013, 623). Pascal (1964, fragment 139 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 109): « […] j’ai découvert que tout le malheur des hommes vient d’une seule chose, qui est de ne savoir pas demeurer en repos, dans une chambre». 28 Pascal (1904–1914, t. IX, p. 255). 29 Germain (1879, 272): « Dans notre manière de concevoir un effet, l’idée du temps est inséparablement liée à celle de l’espace: la notion de la vitesse naît de leurs rapports. Une vitesse plus grande suppose un temps plus court, et si, par la puissance de l’imagination, nous essayions de nous représenter une vitesse infinie, il nous reste toujours l’idée d’un temps infiniment petit. Le temps ne peut être anéanti dans notre pensée». 27

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

93

If we have become accustomed to always considering time as a necessary element in the communication of motive forces, it is because we have seen the effects of the impulse which, acting by a transmission of motion between contiguous molecules, takes all the longer to reach the body subjected to its action, the more distant the extreme points are.30

In other words, time is considered necessary because the transmission of movement takes longer when the extreme points of an object are more distant. The bigger the object in spatial extent, the longer the impact of transmission of motion. This is the case when one object transmits its movement to another object. But in the case of attraction, there is no such condition, and all the objects are instantly attracted. For the law of attraction, an extended time is no necessary component: only movement, mass and space play a role, and this in an instantaneous moment. In a different note, Germain slightly changes her conception of space and time: in geometry, extension is more important than movement, even if in physics, movement is required to calculate the crossing of an aera. So, it is only a slight change, when she writes: “Geometry is the science of extension and motion or only of extension: for everything that exists in this universe, either at once or successively, has extension as the character of its existence.”31 Germain no longer mentions movement or motion as the main character of existence, but instead extent, because everything that exists has a certain type of figure. This certain type of figure allows humans to understand objects and nature because we find the models of these objects in our mind. Germain writes: “In order to study nature, we have decided to measure its works by applying to them the figures of our geometry, the ideal models that our mind has created, the regular forms whose law it knows.”32 For Germain, everything can be defined and known through its figure, thus through the space it occupies. Consequently, things or objects are known because of their figure or extent. For Germain, everything is extension, even space and time: The space that embraces all the points, all the places, all the boundaries of the physical world; the movement that traverses this space, that applies itself to it, measures itself against it and seems to be assimilated to it; the time marked by the succession of things, subsisting from their beginning to their end; the time that embraces the universe in its changes, as space encloses it in its permanence, all is nothing but extent.33

30 Germain (1879, 274): « Si nous nous sommes habitués à considérer toujours le temps comme un élément nécessaire à la communication des forces motrices, c’est que nous avons vu les effets que l’impulsion qui, agissant par une transmission de mouvement entre les molécules contigus, met d’autant plus de temps à parvenir au corps soumis à son action que les points extrêmes sont plus distants». 31 Germain (1879, 262): « La géométrie est la science de l’étendue et du mouvement ou seulement de l’étendue: car tout ce qui existe dans cet univers, ou à la fois ou successivement, a l’étendue pour caractère de son existence». 32 Germain (1879, 265): « Nous avons pris le parti pour étudier la nature de mesurer ses ouvrages en leur appliquant les figures de notre géométrie, les modèles idéaux que notre esprit a créées, les formes régulières dont il connaît la loi». 33 Germain (1879, 263): « L’espace qui embrasse tous les points, tous les lieux, toutes les bornes du monde physique; le mouvement qui parcourt cet espace, qui s’y applique, s’y mesure et semble s’y assimiler; le temps marqué par la succession des choses, subsistant depuis leur commencement

94

J. Muller

Space and time find their justification in extent, and motion is the element that expresses the relationship between space and time because it offers the possibility of measure. If everything can be expressed by motion, time, and space, that is geometrically, then the relations between different figures, a category to which humans also belong, can be calculated or expressed geometrically. It is exactly this way of looking at moral and political relations that Germain wants to achieve by thinking mathematically about morality. Even for Pascal, the first principles of our knowledge, and therefore, the foundations of all knowledge are time, space, and motion. We know truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart, and it is in this last way that we know first principles; and reason, which has no part in it, tries in vain to impugn them. […] For the knowledge of first principles, as space, time, motion, number, is as sure as any of those which we get from reasoning. And reason must trust these intuitions of the heart, and must base them on every argument. (We have intuitive knowledge of the tri-dimensional nature of space, and of the infinity of number, and reason then shows that there are no two square numbers one of which is double of the other. Principles are intuited, propositions are inferred, all with certainty, though in different ways.) And it is as useless and absurd for reason to demand from the heart proofs of her first principles, before admitting them, as it would be for the heart to demand from reason an intuition of all demonstrated propositions before accepting them.34

Time, space, and motion are known by intuition: no proofs are needed. We know these first principles ‘by heart’ (we see here a variation of Descartes’ eternal truths). However, the originality of Pascal lies in the explanation of the “origin” of these principles, because he links their origin to a limited space, i.e., the human body in which the soul is enclosed. “Our soul is cast into a body, where it finds number, time, dimension. Thereupon it reasons, and calls this nature, necessity, and can believe nothing else.”35 The limited space, i.e., the human body, from which the soul wants to break free, as we have seen in the fragment Diversion, is at the same time, the origin of the first principles: only because the soul is linked to the body, does it have jusqu’à leur fin; le temps qui embrasse l’univers dans ses changements, comme l’espace l’enferme dans sa permanence, tout n’est qu’étendue». 34 Pascal (1964, fragment 282 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 147): « Nous connaissons la vérité, non seulement par la raison, mais encore par le cœur; c’est de cette dernière sorte que nous connaissons les premiers principes, et c’est en vain que le raisonnement qui n’y point de part essaye de les combattre. […] Car la connaissance des premiers principes, comme qu’il y a espace, temps, mouvements, nombre, [est] aussi ferme qu’aucune de celles que nos raisonnements nous donnent. Et c’est sur ces connaissances du cœur et de l’instinct qu’il faut que la raison s’appuie, et qu’elle y fonde tout son discours. (Le cœur sent qu’il y a trois dimensions dans l’espace et que les nombres sont infinis; et la raison démontre ensuite qu’il n’y a point deux nombres carrés dont l’un soit le double de l’autre. Les principes se sentent, les propositions se concluent; et le tout avec certitude, quoique par différentes voies.) Et il est aussi inutile et aussi ridicule que la raison demande au cœur des preuves de ses premiers principes, pour vouloir y consentir, qu’il serait ridicule que le cœur demandât à la raison un sentiment de toutes les propositions qu’elle démontre, pour vouloir les recevoir». 35 Pascal (1964, fragment 233, p. 134): « Notre âme est jetée dans le corps, où elle trouve nombre, temps, dimensions. Elle raisonne là-dessus, et appelle cela nature, nécessité, et ne peut croire autre chose».

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

95

the notions of space, time and number.36 It has the notion of space because the human body is a limited space, which the soul can experience through sensation; it has the notion of time because the human body, and not the soul, is perishable and therefore has a limited duration, and it has the notion of numbers because numbers are the only mean to express space and time. So, as for Germain, Pascal thinks that human understanding is shaped by the mathematical and geometrical concepts, time, number, and dimension and that every judgment must be based on them. By changing space into dimension, Pascal underlines the three-dimensional space and covers at the same time the notion of figure. The notion of figure or extent is, therefore, essential even to Pascal. Furthermore, Pascal speaks of these three concepts as seen by the soul as nature or necessity: the soul naturally has in it these three concepts, and every thought is based on them.37 Pascal’s idea is similar to Germain’s wish to define and explain, even moral and political themes, with mathematical and geometrical concepts. For Germain, and it seems even for Pascal, the physical world can be expressed geometrically, so that the physical space and the geometrical space are identical. Human life as it takes part in the physical space should therefore relate directly to the geometrical space. However, both must recognize that calculations and measurements sometimes fail in human life. When motion is constant and uniform, then space is known by time, and time is measured by space, says Germain. A constant and uniform motion, however, is only given in a geometrical context and in mathematical analysis, which is not always the case for human beings.

7.5 Humans Have No Constancy or Uniformity On human beings, Sophie Germain writes: “As we have said, man does not have constancy and uniformity in him: differently modified at each moment, he is changeable, uneven and too little durable to be the measure of duration.”38 Humans are neither constant in time nor uniform in space or extent. As far as time is concerned, we experience change with age: “[…] and one finds in the same people, in the same city, the differences of childhood and the results of middle age.”39 Humans experience their own being in the passage of time: we are not the same at different moments; we are flickering beings. This is why we hope to extend our lives by creating memories that help to develop science for future generations. Germain writes about the variability of human beings:

36

See Paré (2001, 77) concerning writing as a possible diversion. See fragment 89, p. 100: « Qui doute donc que, notre âme étant accoutumée à voir nombre, espace, mouvement, croie cela et rien que cela ?». 38 Germain (1879, 236). 39 Germain (1879, 240): « […] et l’on trouve chez le même peuple, dans la même ville les écarts de l’enfance et les résultats de l’âge mûr». 37

96

J. Muller Thus men, carried away and renewed by time, seeing the works of nature perish like themselves, while the earth is unshakeable and always alive, have imagined to place in its dimensions the invariable type of measures they wanted to make eternal. A being that lives only for a moment has the ambition to prolong its life through memory and to eternalise its institutions [...].40

Here we find her conception of science as being linked to the future: we hope that, at least, our knowledge will endure into the future. And the science Germain is talking about is strongly linked to geometry and mathematics, because these are the only sciences that allow correct measurements in a constant and uniform framework. Mathematical analysis and geometrical results can overcome the passage of time. “Time only preserves works that defend themselves against it”,41 writes Germain in her very first note. Only mathematical demonstrations or proofs and the truths that flow from them (even in morality or politics) can be passed on to future generations, because their constancy preserves them from time, from vanishing. Humans, on the contrary, always have to remember that we are beings in transformation, that we are a variable component of this world, and that we occupy only a very small space in this great universe (all ideas already underlined in Pascal). Our limited views on nature influence our measurements and calculations. Germain states: One of the most beautiful undertakings of the human mind is that of measuring the earth, this globe where man occupies such a small space! He can, however, only know the extent he can cover; he has no scale and unit other than his individual dimensions: his repeated steps have measured space and provided him with the first measures, the foot and the step. [...] What are these small measures compared to the vast circumference of the globe.42

Nevertheless, we can overcome our status as limited creatures by using our intelligence, drawing on the resources of our intelligence to expand our knowledge. And it is primarily geometry that helps humans to go beyond the measurements of our physical bodies. For Germain, geometry is: A miraculous work of human reason; men have concentrated in it all the ideas of order and rectitude which they have received from heaven. If it has its limits like the human mind, it has always risen with it, and has from its height the double immensity, which applies to all times and places, measuring equally both the spaces of fleeting duration and those of present and visible matter.43 40

Germain (1879, 240): « Ainsi les hommes emportés et renouvelés par le temps, voyant périr comme eux les ouvrages de la nature, tandis que la terre est inébranlable et toujours vivante, ont imaginé de placer dans ses dimensions le type invariable des mesures qu’ils voulaient rendre éternelles. Un être qui ne vit qu’un moment, a l’ambition de prolonger sa vie par le souvenir et d’éterniser ses institutions […]». 41 Germain (1879, 235): « Le temps ne conserve que les ouvrages qui se défendent contre lui». 42 Germain (1879, 238): « Une des plus belles entreprises de l’esprit humain est celle de la mesure de la terre, de ce globe où l’homme occupe un si petit espace ! Il ne peut cependant connaître que l’étendue qu’il peut parcourir; il n’a d’échelle et de module que ses dimensions individuelles: ses pas répétés ont mesuré l’espace et lui ont fourni les premières mesures, le pied et le pas. […] Que sont ces petites mesures en comparaison de la vaste circonférence du globe». 43 Germain (1879, 263–264): « Ouvrage miraculeuse de la raison humaine, les hommes y ont concentrée toutes les idées d’ordre et de rectitude qu’ils ont reçues du ciel. Si elle a ses limites

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

97

Geometry is therefore the key to all other sciences; it is the master science. Overcoming the status of a limited creature is a goal for Pascal too. Because we humans know that our time on earth is limited, we do not need to stay stuck in this time and space. Rather, we can overcome this fatalism by working on our intelligence, and our thought: “All our dignity consists, then, in thought. By it we must elevate ourselves, and not by space and time which we cannot fill. Let us endeavour, then, to think well; this is the principle of morality.”44 Even if space and time are the first principles, necessary for all other judgments, humans have to overcome these first principles, and broaden our horizon of knowledge, to gain science and wisdom. To think well is the entire objective of morality, according to Pascal. Germain, as we have seen, takes up this idea by highlighting that only science endures through the ages. According to Pascal, that humankind cannot fill space and time is due to our essence or nature: we have no constancy or uniformity, as nature has. “Nature always begins the same things again, the years, the days, the hours; in like manner spaces and numbers follow each other from beginning to end. Thus, is made a kind of infinity and eternity.”45 Nature, for Pascal, follows a natural rhythm and consequently endures through time and space. Humans, on the contrary, are changing and wavering beings. “Time heals griefs and quarrels, for we change and are no longer the same persons. Neither the offender nor the offended are any more themselves. It is like a nation which we have provoked, but meet again after two generations. They are still Frenchmen, but not the same.”46 As we constantly change, the calculation of moral actions (what we would call predicting actions and reactions) is subject to variability and therefore unreliable. Pascal refers to justice to underline his argument: nowhere the laws are the same, and even justice is subject to variability: We should have seen it set up in all the States on earth and in all times; whereas we see neither justice nor injustice which does not change its nature with change in climate. Three degrees of latitude reverse all jurisprudence; a meridian decides the truth. Fundamental laws change after a few years of possession; right has its epochs; the entry of Saturn into the Lion marks to us the origin of such and such a crime. A strange justice that is bounded by a river! Truth on this side of the Pyrenees, error on the other side.47 comme l’esprit humain, elle s’est toujours élevée avec lui, et tient de sa hauteur la double immensité, qui s’applique à tous les temps et à tous les lieux, mesurant également et les espaces de la durée fugitive, et ceux de la matière présente et visible». 44 Pascal (1964, fragment 347 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 163): « Toute notre dignité consiste donc en la pensée. C’est de là qu’il faut nous relever et non de l’espace et de la durée, que nous ne saurions remplir. Travaillons donc à bien penser: voilà le principe de la morale». 45 Pascal (1964, fragment 121, p. 107): « La nature recommence toujours les mêmes choses, les ans, les jours, les heures; les espaces, de même, et les nombres sont bout à bout à la suite l’un de l’autre. Ainsi se fait une espèce d’infini et d’éternel». 46 Pascal (1964, fragment 122 [not from Pascal’s hand], pp. 107–108): « Le temps guérit les douleurs et les querelles, parce qu’on change: on n’est plus la même personne. Ni l’offensant, ni l’offensé, ne sont plus eux-mêmes. C’est comme un peuple qu’on a irrité, et qu’on reverrait après deux générations. Ce sont encore les Français, mais non les mêmes». 47 Pascal (1964, fragment 294 [not from Pascal’s hand], p. 151): « On la verrait plantée par tous les États du monde et dans tous les temps, au lieu qu’on ne voit rien de juste ou d’injuste qui ne change

98

J. Muller

This passage underscores that for both Germain and Pascal, the wish for mathematical ‘laws’ in morality and politics remains a mere hope, which Germain rightly described as distant and probably unattainable. Humankind is too variable an element in this world to impose calculations on his moral actions. And yet, space and time, and their measurement, allow us to understand our place in the universal creation, our span of duration on this earth, and thus allow us to adapt our behavior accordingly, i.e., by pushing us to acquire knowledge, a thing we can transfer to future generations.

7.6 Conclusion In conclusion, we have seen, that for Germain and Pascal, thinking about space and time offers a framework for morality: the human life can be thought as related to a certain space (not only a physical one, but even a social one) and determined by a certain time. Our actions are therefore measurable within these conditions of space and time, which provides a constancy to a moral theory. Both follow the dream of adopting the language of numbers in moral and political situations, as this would help to predict reactions, prepare responses or simply calculate the pros and cons of action for the good. However, if space and time permit a good knowledge of oneself, i.e., to understand oneself as a being in a determined space, in limited duration, and with change as the only constant, they are not so reliable about the prediction of actions and reactions of other beings, because motion and change make any calculation difficult. It is probably for this reason that both stress that the only thing that endures is science, especially exact science like geometry and mathematics. Humans, and with us, morality and politics, are under variable conditions which means that morality once established (or a justice) cannot remain the same for centuries, it has to adapt to the vagaries of life, to the changes of society.

Bibliography Biedenkapp, G. (1910). Sophie Germain ein weiblicher Denker. H. W. Schmidt’s Verlagsbuchhandlung, Gustav Tauscher. Chevalier, J. (1922). Les maîtres de la pensée française. Pascal. Flanders, K. (2018). Sophie Germain and the struggles of women mathematicians during the French Revolution. Bachelor of Science, Appalachian State University. https://libres.uncg.edu/ir/asu/f/ Flanders_Kelly%20Spring%202018%20Thesis.pdf Germain, S. (1879). Œuvres philosophiques de Sophie Germain suivies de Pensées et de lettres inédites. Librairie-Éditeur, Paul Ritti, reprinted by Elibron Classics series, 2006 (My translation).

de qualité en changeant de climat. Trois degrés d’élévation du pôle renversent toute la jurisprudence; un méridien décide de la vérité; en peu d’années de possession, les lois fondamentales changent; le droit a ses époques, l’entrée de Saturne au Lion nous marque l’origine d’un tel crime. Plaisante justice qu’une rivière borne ! Vérité au deçà des Pyrénées, erreur au-delà».

7 Space and Time: Mathematical and Moral Thoughts in Sophie Germain …

99

Germain, S. (1896). Oeuvres philosophiques de Sophie Germain ; suivies de pensées et de lettres inédites. Et précédées d’une étude sur sa vie et ses œuvres par H te Stuouy. Gallica BNF, Librairie de Firmin-Didot et cie (My translation). Heess, M. (1977). Blaise Pascal: Wissenschaftliches Denken und christlicher Glaube. Fink. Lazzeri, C. (2001). Pascal (1623–1662): le bonheur inaccessible. In A. Caillé (Ed.), Histoire raisonnée de la philosophie morale et politique (pp. 319–329). La Découverte. Loeffel, H. (1987). Blaise Pascal 1623–1662. Birkhäuser. Lyons, J. D. (2013). Espace physique, espace conceptuel dans les Pensées. Dix-septième siècle (261), 623–640. Musielak, D. (2012). Sophie’s diary (2nd ed.). Mathematical Association of America. Musielak, D. (2020). Sophie Germain, revolutionary mathematician (2nd ed.). Springer Biographies (online edition). Ornes, S. (2009). Sophie Germain. Morgan Reynolds Publishing. Paré, F. (2001). Temps et digression dans les Pensées de Pascal. Études françaises, 37(67), 81. Pascal, B. (1904–1914). Œuvres de Blaise Pascal, collection des Grands Écrivains de la France (L. Brunschvicg, P. Boutroux, & F. Gazier, Eds.). Hachette (My translation). Pascal, B. (1964). Pensées. Éditions Garnier. (The translation is from Gutenberg Project 2006: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/18269/18269-h/18269-h.htm#SECTION_III). Schmitz Dumoulin, H. (1982). Blaise Pascal, une biographie spirituelle. Van Gorcum. Shiokawa, T. (2008). Le temps et l’éternité selon Pascal. Dix-septième siècle (239), 273–283. Toti Rigatelli, L. (2007). Sophie Germain: una matematica dimenticata. Archinto. Wood, W. D. (2013). Blaise Pascal on duplicity, sin and the fall: The secret instinct. Oxford University Press.

Jil Muller is Deputy Head, Post-doc Researcher and Assistant Professor at the Center for the History of Women Philosophers and Scientists, Paderborn University, Germany. Her research especially focuses on French Women Philosophers and Scientists in the early modern period, such as Marie de Gournay, Sophie Germain and Émilie du Châtelet, especially their moral theories and their understanding of humans both in society, and in relation to God. She worked on the DFGfunded edition project of the “Historical–critical digital edition of the Paris Manuscripts of Émilie du Châtelet’s Institutions de physique”. Her Ph.D. thesis was on Montaigne, Descartes, and the question of original sin.

Chapter 8

The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey Carol M. Bensick

Abstract Mississippi-born woman of letters Sarah Anne Ellis Dorsey (1829–1879) deserves a place among nineteenth century American philosophers. Dorsey was a corresponding member of the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. Her lectures there in 1874–1875 on “The Philosophy of the University of France,” “The Aryan Philosophy,” and “The Present Condition of the Question of the Origin of Species” were among the first, if not the first, given by a woman before a learned society in a major city. A second presentation of the evolution lecture was called for and the text was published in The New Orleans Monthly Review. The first two lectures were published as pamphlets by the Academy, listed as Works Received by the St. Louis Journal of Speculative Philosophy and briefly reviewed by the Boston Literary World. The pamphlet on the University of France went through seven editions. The pamphlet on “the Aryan Philosophy” is held in 14 libraries. The pamphlet on the University of France is held in 50. This paper provides a contextualized introduction to her career. Sarah Anne Dorsey’s premature death at the age of 50 while engaged in helping Jefferson Davis, the destitute former president of the Confederacy, complete his memoir of the Civil War, prevented her pursuing the career in philosophy that she had begun 5 years earlier with an invited lecture before the New Orleans Academy of Sciences on the Philosophy of the University of France. The open scandal that broke out in newspapers across the country upon the discovery that her will left all her estate to Davis replaced her image as a distinguished intellectual with that of an eccentric old (!) lady prone to hero worship. But her eclipse was not permanent. Significantly, the beginning of the recovery of her intellectual reputation was due to her association with the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. Reporting on the celebration of the 60th anniversary of the Academy, the Times Picayune recalled that “no address was ever enjoyed more” by the members than her lecture on the University of France (2/23/1913).

C. M. Bensick (B) Los Angeles, CA, USA © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_8

101

102

C. M. Bensick

Before “On The Philosophy of the University of France,” her first lecture before the New Orleans Academy of the Sciences, was published as a pamphlet, Sarah Dorsey added a preface (Dorsey, 1874, n.p.). It explained that the lecture had been read “In order to call … attention to this eminent school of philosophy.” She reveals that she has already “translated into English, the work of M. Lachelier, ‘Upon the Basis of Induction,’” which she hopes “will probably soon be printed”. (This translation indeed appeared in 1877 in the renowned St. Louis Journal of Speculative Philosophy [Dorsey, 1877, 1–19].) At present, Dorsey continues, “I am also translating the work of Mr. Fouillee upon ‘Free Will and Necessity[‘]”. Depending on “if I have health and leisure,” she predicts, “I may add also those of Messrs. Janet and Ravaisson.” Does she want to do this in order “to gain fame for myself or credit for …originality of thought”? No. Why then? In order “to serve my own people,” as she “can [do] best.” She is no drudge, however. To make these philosophical translations is a “delightful labor of love.”

8.1 Introduction In 1874, before Ralph Waldo Emerson had ended or William James had begun their careers, a lecture was given in America on the topic of “The Philosophy of the University of France.” Surprisingly, it was not given in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, even Chicago or St. Louis. Nor was it given in connection with a university or by a professor. It was given at the New Orleans Academy of Sciences by a 45 year old plantation owner, Mrs. Sarah Anne Ellis Dorsey. To appreciate the unlikelihood of this occurrence, it is helpful to recall that before 1874, to the extent that American philosophy took notice of the then-called “foreign” philosophers of Europe, it amounted to reviews, paraphrases, and textbooks, overwhelmingly British or German. The French were principally valued as authorities, translators, expositors, and interpreters of German philosophy, like Mme. de Stael’s De L’Allemagne chapter on Kant, which was so important to Emerson (Richardson, 2015, 54). In the Transcendentalist era, people like Margaret Fuller turned to French names like Joseph Degerando only to find biographers, historians, or critics, not metaphysicians. Benjamin Constant and Theodore Jouffroy were translated but hardly engaged with. Even the sole academic—Victor Cousin—turns out to be a historian and critic, not an original thinker. His translations of Thomas Reid, for example, were only redundant in America, where the Scottish thinker could be read in the original. When Dorsey gave her lecture, “French philosophy” still essentially meant infidel Auguste Comte or socialist Charles Fourier—both anathema to Anglo-Saxon Protestant America. It took, then, a considerable degree of nerve.

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

103

8.2 La Revue des Deux Mondes: Janet, Ravaisson, Lachelier, Fouillee After a greeting to the general public and another to the members of the Academy, Dorsey begins her lecture proper by calling attention to the “changes in philosophy during the past twenty years,” i.e., from 1854 to 1874: “There is springing up recently a strong school in England” (Dorsey, 1874, 2). Because this school appears to be “in sympathy with the philosophy of the University of France,” she says, she has “thought it good to call to your attention the works of the present schoolmen of France” (Dorsey, 1874, 2). A recent lecture by an Academy member—Caleb Forshey—had reminded her of the ancient materialism of Epicurus, which she claims had recently re-emerged in the work of Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, and partly Herbert Spencer. Her counterclaim is that “the Existence of Spirit can be proved by positive laws without going outside of the senses.” This thesis, she indicates, is being performed then and now by the present philosophers of the University of France. Her procedure will be to “transcribe,” “with some modifications,” a current article by Sorbonne professor and member of the French Academy of moral and political sciences, Paul Janet. She has thus “used freely, not only the ideas, but the words of great thinkers, of Mr. Janet and others, preferring them to my own cruder expressions” (Dorsey, Preface, n.p.). Her program is to “read you, what Great Thinkers, not religious, or perhaps better to say, who are not Christian men, have to say” on the question “whether Science is justly charged with irreligion” (Dorsey 3). The audience must have wondered: Why is a well-bred lady reading to us the views of non-Christian men? Why was she even reading them, herself? The answer will be clear: to prove that philosophy alone without the help of revealed religion, can vindicate the nature of the universe as spirit. As announced, the core of the lecture is a translation of Paul Janet’s article, “Une Nouvelle Phase de la philosophie spirituelle,” which Dorsey cites as “Ravaisson, Lachelier, and Fouillee: or, the recent spiritual philosophy of France.” This translation occupies 14 pages. The following 4 pages consist of the account of a review by Saint Rene Taillandier of Janet’s so-called “recent great book,” La Morale, translated as “upon The Moral, and Free Thought.” There then follow two pages drawn from Alfred Fouillee’s book translated, “Free Will and Necessity.” Only after this, like a medieval-Renaissance woman philosopher coming out from behind the curtain through which alone she was allowed to lecture, Dorsey comes back out from behind her authors to suggest her own half-page conclusion. Although only 10 (including Taillandier’s review of Janet) of the 29 densely printed pages of which the lecture consists contain Dorsey’s own voice, it is justifiable to consider the lecture as Dorsey’s own work because the paraphrases are both thoroughly subordinated to her own question and firmly framed by her own preface, introduction, conclusion, and perhaps as much as anything, two asterisked (16, 17) and at least two numerical footnotes (3). (I tentatively ascribe the other footnotes to Janet, Taillandier, or Fouillee.) She has announced that though she has “followed carefully … the analysis of M. Paul Janet and others,” she has also “add[ed] what seemed needful for its intelligibility

104

C. M. Bensick

in America” (Dorsey 24); she has made “some modifications.” One must constantly remember, however, that the bulk of the lecture is Dorsey voicing Janet, who himself is often quoting Ravaisson, Lachelier, Fouillee, inter alia. Since Janet’s article is the core of her lecture, it should be set in context. First, we may consider where it was published. It appeared in a journal well-known to nineteenth-century scholars called La Revue des deux Mondes. For those unfamiliar with this periodical, widely read by subscription or at libraries, It was a Parisian “journal of criticism and commentary,” founded in 1829, “on literary and other arts” (e.g., Britannica.com). The “two worlds” were initially the U.S. and France—later, America and Europe. It was the home of such famous contributors as historian Francois Guizot and critic Charles A. St. Beuve. And what about Janet? What was his status? We have mentioned his title, but how was he regarded outside Paris? A sign that Janet was respected in Germany before Sarah Dorsey wrote her lecture is that he was historian Friedrich Ueberweg’s consultant for France in Ueberweg’s long definitive 2-volume history of philosophy (translated by George Sylvester Morris, 1872–1874). Since, in the words of Amazon, Ueberweg’s was “the first major encyclopedic reference work for historiography of philosophy,” this is a mark of eminence. Evidence that Janet was respected in America, in turn, is that William James—Sarah Dorsey’s ten-mere-years-younger contemporary—quotes from him in both volume one of the 1890 Psychology (James 625) and in 1911’s Some Problems of Philosophy (James 123). In its unsigned review of Janet’s 1878 Final Causes, the early British philosophical journal Mind dubbed Janet “the present leader of French spiritualism” (Mind, 1879, 139). The same judgment was repeated in the 1896 History of Philosophy (translated by Frank Thilly) by Alfred Weber, professor of philosophy at Strasbourg (and brother, interestingly of Max Weber, famous author of the Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism) (Weber, 1904, 591 n.1). Since we have taken the time to validate Paul Janet, we will want to do the same with Janet’s subjects. Ravaisson, Lachelier, and Fouillee, are perhaps unfamiliar names for students of either contemporary and/or Anglo-American philosophy. This may make us doubt that they are anything but minor figures, and that therefore Dorsey’s interest in them is idiosyncratic, as an historical women’s fascination with what Bruce Kuklick in his History of American Philosophy (2001) days that “fringe” male thinkers are likely to be (Kuklick, 2001, 265). How can we satisfy ourselves that Janet et al. are mainstream? We have referred to William James. Perhaps a way to test the importance of these three philosophers is to see if by any chance William James—a contemporary of Dorsey’s, a mere ten years younger—is connected with them. One quickly finds that Jules Lachelier in particular is often linked with James. For example, in Pascal’s Wager, a 2006 volume by Jeff Jordan, there is a reference to “the pragmatic argument found in…William James and Jules Lachelier” (Jordan, 2006, 195). An earlier Pascal’s Wager (1985) by Nicholas Rescher, also linked the two, also in the context of opposition to Pascal (Rescher, 1985, 117). Turning to Fouillee, one finds William James himself writing admiringly of him in 1883 in a letter to Charles Renouvier (James, 1900, 231) and only somewhat less admiringly of him to Theodore Flournoy

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

105

in 1892 (James, 1900, 324). William Caldwell of Northwestern University cited “Professor James of Harvard” in Contemporary Review as sharing with Fouillee and others “a tendency to …‘humanism’ as opposed to naturalism” (Caldwell, 1898, 418). Caldwell also listed the work of Fouillee in the same Contemporary Review article as “the keynote of French philosophy proper” (Caldwell, 1898, 413). James also cites Fouillee in the second volume of his 1890 Principles of Psychology (James, 1918, 570) and in his 1896 “The Dilemma of Determinism” (James, 1896, 145) G. L. Nell, editor of Basic Income and the Free Market (2013) asserts that “although Fouillee … has almost been forgotten, he was regarded as a prominent philosopher in his time not only in France but also by many of his contemporaries in Europe and America, including Peirce and James” (Nell, n.p.). In short, it seems James was interested in all the authors that Dorsey lectured on. Thus Sarah Dorsey’s studies of French philosophers, far from taking her away from American philosophy, were leading her into its very heart. Indeed, she was there before them. If we did still question the permanent importance of this group of philosophers— after all, Eugene Taylor, in “William James on Consciousness” (1996) says, “William James was…known to the French as a Frenchman from the beginning of his career” (Taylor, quoted in Joan Grossman & Rischlin, eds., William James in Russian Culture, 2003, 94)—we may look deeper into the scholarship touched on above. In The New Century: Bergsonism (2014, 73), edited by Keith Ansell-Pearson, authors S. Luft and F. Capeilleres identify Lachelier as teaching “a late evolution of spiritualism,” with Ravaisson as favoring Schelling over Hegel and Maine de Biran over Victor Cousin (Luft & Capeilleres in Ansell-Pearson, 2014, 74). This confirms what Sarah Dorsey believed. Lachelier, himself, is quoted by Luft and Capeilleres as claiming a “unity of the philosophical movement of the last 20 years” in identifying being with will (Luft & Capeilleres 73). In the 1942 Outline of Personalism by Lucien Laberthonniere, Lachelier’s thought is described as neo-criticism, where criticism refers to Kantianism (qtd. in Copleston, 1975, 238). In French Philosophy of the 20th Century (2001), Gary Gutting discusses Lachelier under the heading “Idealism” but points out that spiritualism need not be idealistic (Gutting, 2001, 14). Gutting also reveals that Lachelier’s was the “first important reception” of Kant in France. Joan D. Grossman points out that it was Fouillee who coined the term “psychologie nouvelle” (Grossman & Rischlin, 2003, 94) J. E. S. Hayward, in the American Journal of Economics and Sociology (1963), Parts One and Two, Volume 22, pp. 205–222 and 303–312, speaks of the “reformist sociology of Fouillee” (Hayward, 1963). More recently, Andreas Sofroniou named Lachelier as the “co-founder of French spiritualism” (Sofroniou, 2017, 53). Etienne Gilson in his classic A History of Philosophy makes reference to “Lachelier’s idealistic materialism” (Gilson, 1966, Vol. 4, 298). The 1923s edition of the New International Encyclopedia edited by Daniel Gilman et al., states in Vol. 18 that “Lachelier attempted a combination of Kantianism and spiritualism” (Gilman, 1923, 528). Caldwell, mentioned before, says that “the writing of men like Fouillee” is “the keynote of continental French philosophy proper” (Caldwell, 1898, 413). In conclusion, these figures are not marginal. The thinkers that Dorsey included in her lecture are central to the history of philosophy.

106

C. M. Bensick

But are they central to history only? Have they any continuing relevance? Is Dorsey’s survey of contemporary interest, or is it merely a fossil? The evidence is encouraging. Ravaisson and Janet appear in a chapter called “The French Philosophical Crisis” by Nathalie Richard in the recently released Worlds of Positivism: Global Intellectual History, 1770–1930, edited by Johannes Feichtinger et al. (2018, 155–190, esp. 157, 160). Richard casts them as major opponents of the leaders of the well-known and influential positivist movement begun by Auguste Comte (e.g., Emile Littre, Hippolyte Taine, Ernest Renan). As anti-positivists, Ravaisson and Janet are clearly no minor figures. Even more evidence of the centrality of these thinkers is in the inclusion of a chapter on “French Spiritualism” by Maine-de-Biran-authority F. C. T. Moore in Nineteenth Century Philosophy: Revolutionary Responses to the Existing Order edited by A. Schrift and D. Conway (Moore, 2013). Conway’s introduction also discusses French spiritualism (Moore, 2013). An essay on Ravaisson by Jeremy Dunham is included in the 2015 “From Habit to Monads: Felix Ravaisson’s theory of substance,” in the British Journal for the History of Philosophy 23, 6 (Dunham, 2015, 1085–1105). A detailed timeline of French Spiritualism also by Jeremy Dunham appears in the somewhat recent 2016 edition of Maine de Biran’s Relationship Between the Physical and Moral in Man, edited by Darian Meacham. Perhaps most reassuring of all, in 2016 a volume of selected essays by Ravaisson was produced by Mark Sinclair for Bloomsbury Academic Press. According to the Press, this was the first edition of Ravaisson in English. This discovery may remind us of how important was Dorsey’s ability to read the Revue des deux Mondes in the original—an ability not universal in America, or even England. Pausing on Mark Sinclair’s selection, Bloomsbury’s announcement for his book states that Ravaisson “has emerged as an extremely important and influential figure in the history of modern European Philosophy.” Professor Alan Schrift—noted previously as an editor of Bloomsbury’s 2013 Nineteenth Century Philosophy—is quoted in the announcement as stating that Sinclair’s collection of Ravaisson “fills a significant gap in 19th century philosophical scholarship”. It seems that Ravaisson is a gift to Modern, European, and nineteenth century fields. If a final proof of the current vitality of Sarah Dorsey’s chosen subject is needed, a revisionist article by Larry McGrath called “Fouillee Between Science and Spirituality” was recently published in Modern Intellectual History 12, 2 (2015, 295–323). To cap all, Of Immediate Apperception, by the founder of Ravaisson’s tradition of spiritual philosophy, Maine de Biran, has also received an English edition, by Alessandra Aloisi and Marco Piazza, from Bloomsbury, as lately as 2020 (trans. Mark Sinclair). In short: French Spiritual Philosophy is hot.

8.3 Sarah Dorsey Now that we are assured of the prominence and present relevance of the philosophers whom Sarah Dorsey is calling to the attention of the New Orleans scientists, we may take a moment to assure ourselves of the importance of Sarah Dorsey herself.

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

107

Sometime between 1860 and 1867 it is recorded that she published two novels, not yet located, in the Raleigh, North Carolina, Church Intelligencer. In 1866, at age 37, she was already known to the Nashville Daily Union as “a thorough scholar and very accomplished writer,” “well-known in literature” (6/16:1866). By 1869, she was known, further, as “one of our most accomplished scholars” (Debows, 1869, excerpted in Education Review, January 1869) and a “gifted translator”. Dorsey translated two plays including Uriel Acosta from the German of Karl Gutzkow. Gutzkow was an interesting figure; he studied philosophy and theology in Berlin and wrote a Philosophy of History when he was in prison for publishing the allegedly irreligious novel, Wally the Doubter. He was associated, notably, with the German so-called Young Hegelian movement. Later Dorsey would publish three translations from the French. She was seen by the Chicago Tribune as an “accomplished Southern authoress” (7/21/79). In the 1874 Life of Capt. Fry, Jeanie Mort Walker alluded to Dorsey as “the distinguished Southern litterateur” (Walker, 1874, 588). Nor was Dorsey’s fame only sectional; she was “the center” of “a brilliant coterie… of all sections of the country.” In the 1860s Dorsey mailed reports, under the name of “Filia Ecclesiae,” to the New York Episcopalian Churchman newspaper on her efforts running a school for slave children and an Episcopal chapel for slaves; in mid-war, these reports were lost. She became internationally known as “the author of Recollections of Louisiana Governor and Confederate Brigadier General Henry Watkins Allen (1866). She was requested by a Memphis newspaper to supply an advertisement for the publication of the lady’s edition of a soldier’s journal (Captain Fry, noted above). She reviewed the 1865 Across the Continent, a best-selling travel book by an important New England editor, Samuel Bowles, a friend of contemporary poet, Emily Dickinson. In addition, in 1875, Dorsey published a translation of George Galesio’s 1811 Traite du Citrus in the New Orleans Our Home Journal. Further, she contributed newspaper articles on state politics, e.g., urging Democratic readers of the New Orleans Times in 1872 to join a coalition with Louisiana’s Reconstruction Governor, Republican and ex-Union officer, Henry Warmoth. These letters were copied as far away from Louisiana as Georgia. Dorsey serialized a novel, Agnes, in the Southern Literary Messenger in 1863–1864 (later published in l869 as Agnes Graham), and published two additional novels, Lucia Dare and Athalie in 1867 and 1872 respectively. According to various issues of the New Orleans Republican, Dorsey was “well known to the literati of our society” (4/10/74), “distinguished” (4/14/74), and “one of the most learned ladies of the South” (4/14/74). She was acknowledged as “carefully educated,” a “close student all her life,” “an accomplished linguist” (4/14/74) and “brilliant and cultured”. Prior to her lectures, a London journal entitled the Parochial Critic cited her novels in an article on Southern American literature, observing that she “wrote with that consciousness of power which they alone possess whose minds securely grasp every phase and development of the themes they handle.” In a notice of her Allen in the British Contemporary Review in 1868, Rev. Canon J. C. Robertson, professor of ecclesiastical history at Kings College, London, said she was “evidently a lady of unusual learning,” who could even be expected to be “able to hold her own against the most illuminated and eloquent ladies of the Bostonian coteries” (Robertson, 1868, 40). The following year she headed a list of “stars” assembled

108

C. M. Bensick

by the Times-Picayune to demonstrate that “the women of the South [were] not a whit behind their sisters of the North in genius or talent, and culture” (12/19/69). In 1871, she was invited to apply for the headship of the Patapsco Female Institute, in her husband’s home state of Maryland. According to the (unsigned) Biographical and Historical Memoirs of Louisiana, she donated a family heirloom, a valuable European painting of Anne of Austria, wife of French King Louis XIII, to the city of New Orleans, where it was hung in the new City Hall (194). According to the New Orleans Republican, on the occasion of the reading of her lecture on the University of France “before the savans of the academy,” she attracted “a large number of intellectual ladies and gentlemen” (4/14/74). It judged her lecture “an original essay” and “an able review,” which “evidence[d]…much reading in all respects.” The New Orleans Times called her “learning and literary industry…unquestionable” (1/3/75). The Times Picayune hailed her “breadth of learning, forcible powers of reasoning, and eloquence of expression.” Additionally, it claimed that her “fame for depth of erudition and eloquence as a lecturer” was “spread throughout the Southern states” (10/12/ 75). Her ability as “an accomplished and talented Southern lady” whose writing was “strikingly original” was admitted even in New England (New England Journal of Education 5–6, 1877, 143) The American Bookseller described her as “talented and highly educated” (IV, July–December 1877). Alcee Fortier’s 1894 Louisiana Studies quotes “a Southern periodical” deeming her life of Allen “the most accomplished account of the late war … given to the public” (Fortier, 1894, 99). An intellectual correspondence she conducted in 1871–1873 with a prominent English aristocrat and education reformer, Lyulph Stanley, is preserved in the University of Manchester Rylands Library; a selection of the letters was published by British scholar Marcus Cunliffe in the 1954 library Bulletin. According to the Times-Picayune of 1876, she had “prosecut[ed] philological researches in England,” in the course of which she “became very well acquainted with the ambassador” of the ruler of the state of Baroda, India (2/23/1876). A notice for her 1877 novel Panola by the literary editor of the Philadelphia Press (Robert Shelton Mackenzie, LLD) called her a “talented and highly educated lady.” In 1875, she published Stray Leaves, a volume of poems, with an unidentified publisher, under her pseudonym, Filia (short for Filia Ecclesiae). As the corresponding secretary for Louisiana of the National Museum, Independence Hall, Philadelphia, she published a note to the readers of the TimesPicayune in 1875 soliciting relics. Virtually on her premature deathbed at age 50 in 1879, she sent a letter published in the New York Herald that had been read aloud to the Louisiana State Convention urging members to add women’s suffrage to the new state constitution. This action led to her becoming included in the third Volume of the 1886 Stanton-Anthony-Gage History of Woman Suffrage. Stanton et al. credited her “able articles on abstruse questions,” especially the “exceptionally able and interesting” article on the problem of the origin of species, which exhibited “extensive reading on scientific questions”. They even called her the most “remarkable” woman Mississippi ever produced (Stanton et al., 1886, 807). This is of course the more remarkable in that these editors were all based in the North. In her 1901 Old Times in Dixie: Memoirs of a Southern Matron, Caroline E. Merrick, the Southern leader of Chicagoan Frances Willard’s Women’s Christian Temperance Union, cited

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

109

Dorsey’s letter to the convention; she went on to call her a “rarely gifted woman” and a “writer of power” (Merrick, 1901, 132). Many more praiseful (and from papers in the North or West, a few snarky) remarks appear in contemporary and later periodicals, particularly around her death. Finally, three decades after her death Dorsey’s lecturing was still remembered in New Orleans; a 1913 article in the Times Picayune on the anniversary of the defunct Academy of Sciences not only recalls Dorsey’s “University of France” lecture but even quotes from it (2/24). As mentioned previously, Dorsey appears in several nineteenth and twentieth century reference volumes. In the twentieth century, she was the subject of two unpublished theses and played, moreover, a central role in several volumes, as well as in an online 2011 paper on the Mississippi Historical Society blog, by historian Bertram Wyatt-Brown concerning her Percy family ancestors and descendants. Wyatt-Brown’s title, “A Woman of Uncommon Mind,” is a quotation from Dorsey’s admiring though unappreciated step-father, Charles Dahlgren. (He made her study law and accounting and deplored her choice as spouse of the older ex-lawyer exoverseer Samuel Dorsey.) Dorsey maintains a high reputation in the fields of Southern and women’s literature for her novels, and her Recollections of Allen is both a classic of biography and an essential source for Civil War history.

8.4 Writings Prior to the First Lecture To put her lecture in the context of her previous work, we should glance at her publications in the 1860s. Did she have a pre-existing interest in philosophy, or did this only develop in 1874? Unfortunately, Dorsey’s first two serialized novels have never been recovered, so it is impossible to know if they drew upon philosophy. It is likely that they did, however, in that philosophical reading can be seen to inform her first surviving novel. In her first novel, Agnes (serialized 1863–1864 in the Southern Literary Messenger, then the most prestigious Southern review, quoted here from the 1869 published version Agnes Graham), it peeks out openly. The narrator makes three references to Kant, three to Burke, one to Pythagoras, four to Plato, one to [David] Strauss, one to Lucretius, and also mentions the philosophical words and phrases “positivism,” “Epicurean,” “metaphysicians,” “rationalist” and “a priori”. To our concern with American philosophy, she refers to Emerson, who she says (in parentheses, as if to minimize offense to the conventionally pious female Southern reader) “is certainly a great thinker.” It is important to recognize that this estimate of Emerson was decidedly rare among Southern women. An older novel, published by future best selling author, Alabamian Augusta Jane Evans, to which Dorsey’s fiction was likened by a reviewer who disliked it, was more typical. Beulah (1859) is the story of a studious young girl who has lost her Christian faith through reading Emerson’s essays. Watching her best friend, an even stronger Emersonian, die a dreadful death due to her inability to anticipate reunion with her loved ones in heaven, leads her to a dark night of the soul after which she rejects Emerson and returns to evangelical orthodoxy. The

110

C. M. Bensick

lesson is that Emerson is a false prophet whose eloquence will seduce you away from the teachings of the church and desert you at the brink of death. This shows how remarkable it was for Dorsey to call Emerson her favorite. It explains why, as well, that she does so only in a supposed dialogue with an old soldier. Her representation of herself converting ex-Governor Henry Allen to belief in Emersonianism appears almost like a conscious reversal of Beulah. Her unorthodox comments would cause her estranged family to insist in obituaries that she had returned to the Episcopalian church before death. (The same would be claimed for Emerson and theism before his death.) This is a reminder of how pious a society, and how suspicious of philosophy, the United States still was in Dorsey’s day. Dorsey’s subsequent project after Agnes and first book was the 1866 Recollections of Allen, just mentioned, which he himself had commissioned. It’s perhaps worth noting, in a volume on women philosophers, that people always seemed to be commissioning Dorsey to do things. Whether it was her novelist aunt bequeathing her manuscripts for publication to a bishop (and soldier: Leonidas Polk), enjoining her to found a lay convent for Episcopalian women, or to this biography, people seemed to suppose, though her aunt should have known better, that she had nothing else to do. Presumably this might not have happened had she borne children. Either way, time to read and write, far less to think, was encroached on. To return to Recollections. Prima facie one is tempted to skip examining this text for philosophical content, A moment’s thought silences the doubt. From the Iliad on, telling the tales of heroism, friendship, and death elicits reflection like little else. We’re not surprised, then, that Recollections includes Henry Bolingbroke, Aristotle, “the conditioned” (due to Sir William Hamilton), Platonism, Schiller, Boethius, Seneca, the Stoics, the Epicureans, Zeno, Pope, Montaigne, Utopia, Montesquieu, Renan, Gottfried Lessing, David Strauss, Socinianism, Bishop John Colenso, Plato, and again—”my favorite Emerson” (Dorsey 41, 314, 315). As we saw, Dorsey portrays herself carrying on a a dialogue with Allen in which they debate which is the better philosophy of exile (Allen and his friends were heading to Mexico), Viscount Henry Bolingbroke’s or Dorsey’s own theory based on Emerson and Plato. They debate which offers better reason to believe that friends separated in life will meet again after death. This is not the only philosophical dialogue in the book. Subsequent to the conversation with Allen, Dorsey portrays herself debating Ernest Renan’s denial of Christianity with her friend Col. (John Sandidge) (Dorsey, 320). In her portrayal, when the Colonel first brought up Renan, Allen “exclaimed in a tone of vexation, ‘there now, listen at Col. —-, he has got upon religion with Mrs. —-!’” His interlocutor, Mr. —-, “smiled as he replied: ‘He won’t startle her, you need not be troubled; she reads all the infidels and pagans!’ It seems as if Dorsey was taking advantage of Allen’s biography to express her own thinking on subjects she could not describe herself discussing with women, even that she could only portray herself discussing with soldiers.” Even in Lucia Dare, Annie Laurie reads philosophy, she does not debate it. Strangely, no reviewer or reader of Allen seems to have remarked on these passages. Philosophy continues in the next novel, Lucia Dare (1867). Lucia Dare contains references to Bacon, [Jean] Bodin, and to Plato, the latter not just in general but

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

111

specifically to Plato’s “Republic” and “The Statesman,” where in a character is said to read aloud “in Greek.” Dorsey also references Averroes and Epicurus, as well as the ‘Hindoo’ (sic) culture. In Lucia Dare a character (Annie Laurie) makes a speech (Dorsey, 1867, 69) that will virtually reappear in the Academy of Sciences talk on “The Aryan Philosophy,” a circumstance which suggests reading this character as a self-portrait. In 1870–1871, the Dorsey couple traveled to Europe, where Dorsey made several intellectual friends including Canadian-born Lady Henrietta Stanley. Sources including her brother claimed that she corresponded with Thomas Carlyle, Herbert Spencer, and Arthur Penryn Stanley, dean of Westminster Cathedral and famous church historian, though no letters seem to survive. One letter from Christina Rossetti has been found. Her side of a correspondence survives with Edward Lyulph Stanley, as stated above. She recommended the acquaintance of socialite author Anna Leonowens, the model for The King and I, to Lyulph Stanley. More importantly, as evidence of her penchant for philosophy and surprising familiarity with and taste for New England Transcendentalism, she also recommended Henry David Thoreau to him as an American Rousseau, as an article in a 1964 issue of Louisiana History reported (Van Akin Burd, 1964, 296–309). it is curious to note that Julia Ward Howe, something of her counterpart in Boston, was in England and France during the same year, also mingling with the Stanleys (she had met Carlyle previously, on her 1840 honeymoon). Upon returning to the states, Dorsey published in 1872 a third novel, the generically comic “Athalie: A Southern Villeggiatura,” subtitled “A Winter’s Tale”. Although possibly intended to make the probably war-depleted travelers money, even this novel incorporates pieces of dialogue like “You have no Aryan in you,” and “I am not a Hindoo,” and refers to Kant and Spencer. It was with these works behind her—and after the correspondence with Lyulph Stanley broke off upon his marriage—that Dorsey found herself invited in 1874 to give a lecture to the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. The topic she chose was “On the Philosophy of the University of France.” In its announcement of this event, the New Orleans Bulletin described Dorsey as “one of our best Southern thinkers” (5/10/74). Her topic was not entirely out of the blue. As she mentions in her introductory section, it came about in the context of a previous paper by a member of the Academy, a military engineer and college professor whom she describes as a plantation neighbor and dear friend, Caleb Goldsmith Forshey. The paper, entitled The Entities and Thoughts on Development and the Origin of Species, had been published in New Orleans in 1873. Dorsey persistently refers to it as “a Theory of Two Entities.” As we saw, this is not its published title. She is evidently concerned that it be recognized as a dualism. Equally mysteriously, she adds that some of the Academy had “controverted” it, without saying why. If Forshey had “propounded” it as of “two Entities” and they challenged it, this suggests that what they challenged was its dualism. That she proceeds to equate it with the Epicurean materialism of Lucretius would seem to bear this out. her implicit intention is to contest Forshey, Her own reaction is to equate it with Lucretius, whom she equates with Epicurus. Attributing the same dualism to contemporary French scientists Bichat and Robin, and an attempt

112

C. M. Bensick

to prevent it from excluding God to English Unitarian philosopher (and brother of feminist author Harriet) James Martineau, she takes this as an opportunity to indulge in a reflection, which in turn affords a sample of her own reasoning. How can Force be Divine will, if it has existed always over and against Divinity? Either there are Two Divinities Or there is but one…How can there be Two Eternals, unless they are equally Infinite? How can there be two Infinities? They would be destructive one of the other, in order to continue to exist! (Dorsey 3) Before proceeding, it may be helpful to remind ourselves of Dorsey’s expressed intentions in the lecture. We seem to have wandered away from the University of France (though perhaps less so from the exhibition of women’s thought). Her “Preface” had avowed several purposes. On the one hand, she aimed to “call the attention” (4/13/ 74, n.p.) of the New Orleans Academy of Sciences to the philosophy professors of the University of France. They would need this because unlike the historic University of Paris, the University of France was a recent institution, which had moreover gone through several changes in the political upheavals of the century. Dorsey calls these professors “grand wrestlers for Truth and freedom of Debate,” fitting the image of [Thomas] Carlyle’s “the torch bearers of intellect” (2). Her next aim is to share with the “thinking men” of the Academy “something of the thoughts of Women” (Dorsey 1). Why? Was there any particular connection between women and the philosophers of France? She does not say so. She does say that because women have always known something of the thoughts of men, men should also know of the thoughts of women. Since there will be no other women thinkers in the paper, this turns out to be a recommendation for the thoughts of Sarah—a self-confident move. Since the lion’s share of Dorsey’s paper is a transcription of texts by three men, this may seem an odd introduction. Yet it is not impossible to locate Dorsey’s own thoughts. One can, for starters, consider her range of reference. The French philosophers are not her only references. She also mentions, for example, “the celebrated Rev. Meigs, of Philadelphia” (Dorsey 1). Dr. Charles Meigs was a professor of what we’d call obstetrics and gynecology in the Jefferson School of Medicine in Philadelphia. As a girl, Dorsey had attended a French school in Philadelphia, where she had a French uncle. The quotation is drawn from Meigs’ published classroom lectures. Second, in her run-up, she quotes Thomas Carlyle and [Michael] Faraday and commends an 1874 article called “Causality in will and motion” in the British Contemporary Review by “the Hon.” Roden Noel (XXIII, February, 380– 406). Noel was a member of the famous late Victorian British Metaphysical Society, attended, most famously, by the poet laureate, Lord Tennyson. This society founded

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

113

the Contemporary Review as its organ (1869–1880); associated with the Church of England, it published Matthew Arnold, Walter Pater, John Ruskin, Thomas Huxley, Cardinal Manning, and Herbert Spencer, and had William James as a corresponding member from 1883. By quoting from this journal, Dorsey is seemingly providing her credentials to give the Academicians reasons to rely on her. Dorsey sets the stage for her lecture with a brisk history: Formerly in the Schools of the United States, the Scotch metaphysics were taught. Reid and Stuart (sic) and Brown and later Hamilton. In the University of Virginia, which has a wider curricula than any of the other colleges, they united to these, the French school of Victor Cousin and Theodore Jouffroy. Now, nothing is read or talked of but the Insular School of Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, Herbert Spencer. (Dorsey 2) Another ignored woman philosopher, Julia Ward Howe, had earlier observed something similar, in her 1868 From the Oak to the Olive (Howe 33). Although Spencer’s acknowledgment of “the probability of a First principle of things” “separates him positively from Comte, and the French and English materialists,” Dorsey asserts, “All the rest of the English savans, …are nearly all materialistic in their teachings” (Dorsey 2). She now moves on to Janet’s own book, or rather, Saint Rene Tallandier’s review of it, titled La Morale et La Pensee Libre, which, she states, speaking for Taillandier, “goes a step farther than Ravaisson, Lachelier, or Fouillee has gone as yet” (Dorsey 19). This book, she reveals, “has made a profound impression upon the world of philosophers.” According to Taillandier, Janet “reaches,” she states, “the ultimate facts which are the foundation of our [Christian] religion and which seem to necessitate the Christian faith.” It is, she says, “a remarkable book.” First, she relates, Janet repudiates the “ordinary and vulgar acceptation” of the words “Free Thinker and Free thought.” She quotes: “There are incredulous men, who far from thinking freely, do not think at all, but accept objections as servilely as other men do dogmas: There are believers on the other hand who have a custom of the boldest, freest thinking.“ Janet ends aphoristically or perhaps oracularly: “It is not the thing thought which constitutes freedom, it is the manner in which the thing is thought” (Dorsey 19). To continue, Dorsey reveals that Janet, “abandons … the ordinary substratum laid down by Kant and Fichte, and other writers, of an independent morality” (Dorsey 20). According to Dorsey’s account of Taillandier’s review of Janet, “Kant is right …when he establishes so powerfully the obligatory character of the moral Law: but

114

C. M. Bensick

he is wrong, a thousand times wrong, when he makes of this Law a sort of abstract Tyrant, …which we find in ourselves, but which does not represent to us anything living… no reality superior to ourselves.” Kant’s problem, Janet claims, is that he was “always possessed by the thought that we were not able to go outside of ourselves” (20). But, he goes on, “a profounder psychology, proves on the contrary that we cannot regard ourselves without going above and beyond ourselves.” With a gesture at Francois Fenelon, the popular seventeenth-century court preacher, Dorsey (voicing Taillandier on Janet) concludes, “We must break loose the fetters of Kant, then, and substitute to the idea of an abstract law, the idea of a living law.” We must, she says, “put in the place of sic volo sic jubeo” (a saying from the Roman satirist Juvenal, quoted by Kant in the Critique of Practical Reason, translated as “Thus I will, Thus I command; my will stands for a reason”) “the sublime and beneficent end which we are commanded to grow towards.” We must substitute the idea of a living law to that of an abstract one, Dorsey paraphrases. And what, asks she, “are the benefits in which are born for us both duty and virtue?” According to her, Janet answers with “one word”: “Perfection.” Dorsey concedes that “In a certain sense this has been declared by all philosophers from Aristotle to Leibnitz” (Dorsey 20). But, striking a new note as specific to Janet, she maintains that “Janet made it his own in fully expressing the joy which this view of the moral law causes to enter the heart of men.” Unlike Utilitarianism or what she calls “the abstract legislation as imposed by Kant,” she proceeds, “those to whom ‘the destiny of man’ unfolds itself, from progress to progress, from perfection to perfection, who believe they can acquire a personality even higher, richer, more radiant,… [these] become participants in the immortal good, happiness and virtue are one, and the same thing” (Dorsey 21). Janet, according to Dorsey, claims that “if one believes that no particular man has possibly realized [the] ideal, we come to the conclusion that we have an ideal of a man in himself distinct from all individual men, and from or toward which, every man may go or approach.” And “the qualities which compose the conception of this man it-self, are drawn from the exhibition we have had of the several qualities as they have been exhibited in man” (Dorsey 21). Dorsey quotes: “It is this double necessity of having a type or a model superior to every particular man and, which nevertheless should not be an empty abstraction [,] which has given birth to the grand Christian conception of a man-God” (Dorsey 22). At this point Dorsey cannot help but as it were set down (Taillandier’s account of) Janet’s text and speak on her own, expressing what is clearly the thing which impressed her in Janet’s text and which compelled her to share it with the Academy and also “American readers”: “We can only say that the essence of religion is here in this philosophy, and the phase of it which responds best to these human needs will live so long as humanity remains in its present condition” (Dorsey 22). And at this point Dorsey stops her transcription because “we have not space to refer to “Janet’s further arguments,” declaring that “all of [them] are worthy of careful study” and “all of which [she] would earnestly commend to you” (Dorsey 22). Dorsey here (as ever, voicing Janet) turns to Alfred Fouillee. According to her, in his Free Will and Determinism Fouillee states that there are “three great schools”

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

115

of philosophy “during our day”: “of Kant in Germany, Maine de Biran in France, and of Hume in England” (Dorsey 22). Fouillee evokes a “one vast edifice” of which these schools comprise three foundations. The first foundation is “made of all that materialism contained of positive truth…the mechanical liaison of phenomena.” The second foundation “responds to the harmonic liaison of creatures in their finality,” and as Dorsey continues to quote: “Antiquity knew only these two first regions in a philosophic consciousness”; “She (sic) never assigned to morality a sphere absolutely her own.” To be sure, “true liberty and with it true morality was… divined by Plato and the Alexandrians,” Fouillee continues. But it was “…better understood in India, in Persia, and in Judea”; finally, “with Christianity” “this was ‘elevated … into the rank of a new and renovating principle.’” This principle, Fouillee claims,—that morality had a sphere of its own, liberty and morality—“was lost in Rome.” But—and this is clearly the claim which Dorsey celebrates in Fouillee—“it was and is reestablished in France, … [p]roposed to the world under the names of liberty, equality, and fraternity” (Dorsey 22). Specifically, it was “Maine de Biran…[who] re-established in man and Nature” what had appeared before in René Descartes and afterward in Victor Cousin, “the dynamism of life” (Dorsey 23). As Dorsey paraphrases Fouillee, “the directing idea of the English philosophy…is Utility” (Dorsey 23). But “the directing idea” of the philosophy of France is this idea of “liberty” and its entailment “fraternity.” Dorsey paraphrases: “For France liberty is not a means in view of Universal life as the Germans conceive to-day; it is not a means in view of individual Utility as the English conceive it; it is not simply a means in view of the life to come and the interests of salvation as many Christians conceive it: it is by itself and in itself and for itself a good and End, a Law.” Thus “the directing idea of France,” the French nation—“is the directing idea of Humanity itself” (23). Proceeding, Dorsey speaks for Fouillee: “In the present life, [the directing idea] begins the Kingdom of God, by the realization of Law and human solidarity.” In sum, “Antiquity seeking to explain mind by Nature figured it only as a chance or Destiny, that is to say necessity. After thus being chained to Nature, intelligence has delivered itself in conceiving a free morality as the only force capable of realizing a Universal Love” (Dorsey 23). And after so much buildup, so many pages quoting, Dorsey now feels she can speak in her own right: “We may say of ourselves.” In her own view, informed by Janet and Fouillee and the rest, what “this modern spiritualistic philosophy” has done, is to have “restored to the world, the thoughts of God, the soul, immortality”—moreover, this “not through supernatural revelation,” which the Academy of Sciences would reject, but “through inflexible laws of logic and strict philosophy” (Dorsey 24). “The Philosophers of France,” she continues, “have placed all thoughtful earnest and doubting minds” under “immense obligation.” They have given “back to the world in clearly illuminated text the grand words uttered by the unconscious lips of the Earth from her infancy, proclaimed alive by the sages of India, the Priests of Egypt, the Philosophers of Greece, the singers and prophets of Israel.” According to Dorsey, “the present philosophy of the University of France” has accomplished the task of giving back to the world “the Key to all Existences”; namely, that “all is filled with God, is full of spirit.” “The Philosophers of the University of France”

116

C. M. Bensick

reassure “us,” Americans, that “we live not in the midst of Death,” not “in a dead Universe,” as materialist philosophy teaches. Dorsey pleads, “if …we would pause for a second to listen… We would hear the deep, intense pulsations of living force which are the heart-beats of the Life of God.” If this sounds Thoreauvian, it would be no anomaly, as Dorsey praised Thoreau as well as Emerson to Lyulph Stanley. Charging herself with having slipped into speaking “poetically,” she commits to “put [the point] less [so]”; unpoetically put, “Science [,] which is unjustly charged with Irreligion[,] is really its humble handmaiden.” Lest we not appreciate this, she asserts that “It is much to add to positive science the certainty of the existence of Spirit.” And—quoting a frequent saying attributed alternatively to Mme. Marie du Deffand and Voltaire (who might have been quoting Du Deffand, a friend with whom he corresponded)—Dorsey exclaims, “C’est le premier pas qui coute!”

8.5 Significances of Lecture How significant is Dorsey’s promotion of Janet, Ravaisson, Lachelier, and Fouillee in New Orleans in 1875? We’ve seen that they are considered important in their context. But were they significant in America generally? What about in the South? Does Dorsey’s work have a lasting impact? Was it important, or just the work of “an eccentric old lady,” as the Chicago Inter Ocean (speaking for many) called her after she bequeathed her property to the ex-President of the Confederacy, Jefferson Davis (8/5/79). That newspaper evidently thought that the New Orleans scientists ignorantly overrate her. If nobody else in America noticed Janet’s article it would be difficult to decide. In fact, a distinguished doctor of divinity, and professor of New York’s Hamilton College, John W. Mears (later to organize a successful symposium in celebration of the centenary of The Critique of Pure Reason) published translations of both the same Janet and Taillandier articles as had Sarah Dorsey, in the distinguished Presbyterian and Princeton Review (October 1874, 679–697 and July 1875, 494– 513). (Dorsey, an outspoken Episcopalian, would have been unlikely to have seen this periodical.) A Northern Professor and preacher having translated the same texts in a mainstream academic journal as the Southern plantation mistress and novelist in a semi-public lecture to a scientific organization proved more than anything that Sarah Dorsey was up to date with the leading age of mid-nineteenth century philosophy. Mears got the credit because his translations were published where Dorsey’s lecture was only privately printed, and languishes in 50 libraries. But the point is Dorsey was apparently one of only two writers to translate Janet and Taillandier. Her pamphlet could have been discovered by Southern historians. But the few historians who have been interested in Dorsey have been interested in her biography of Allen, not her lectures. Literary scholars, on the other hand, have been interested in her novels, not her lectures. Even if a philosophical researcher happened to discover it, with massive nineteenth century figures like Hegel and Darwin to choose among would likely not be attracted to a pamphlet with the opaque title “On the Philosophy of the University of France.” Indeed, they might mistake it for an article on education.

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

117

At the same time, it would not attract a researcher of women, either. As we saw, the text does claim that women deserve to be listened to by men, but there is no hint of this in the title. As it turns out, Dorsey’s perception that “there is springing up recently a strong school in England, in sympathy with the philosophy of the University of France,” was not eccentric. In the 2011 Edinburgh Critical History of Nineteenth Century Philosophy, edited by Alison Stone, specifically, in the chapter “Idealism and Naturalism” by Sebastian Gardner, that group of successors to Maine de Biran and Cousin to which Dorsey called attention to in 1874 is claimed to constitute the “roots of the school known as Personalism.” Even more to the point, it is claimed that “understanding Anglo-American idealism after Bradley” is virtually impossible without them” (Gardner, 2011, 109, in Stone 89–110). This suggests that the schools Dorsey should be associated with are Personalism, on the one hand, and Anglo-American idealism, on the other. Dorsey discloses in passing that she herself has made or is making translations into English of works by Jules Lachelier and Alfred Fouillee and contemplates translating work by Janet and Ravaisson. Giving more evidence of her ongoing commitment to philosophical research—showing, to be blunt, that she is no dilettante—Dorsey laments that she cannot take space in this lecture to treat Janet’s further arguments but can only “commend” them as “worthy of careful study.” Meanwhile, echoing what she said earlier about there being a new movement in England in sympathy with the University of France, she assures that she will be “watching” the ongoing work of the French philosophers “with interest” (Dorsey 2). Judging from a report in the New Orleans Republican, the audience was pleased with this paper, calling it “in all respects [an] able review of the uttered thoughts of all the leading modern philosophers of France”; so “compact and full of thought upon thought that a mere abstract of it would fail to do it justice” (something often contemporaneously said by journalists reporting the philosophical lectures of Julia Ward Howe), it was “attentively listened to” (4/14/74). Subsequent to giving the lecture on the University of France, Dorsey was invited to deliver another lecture to the Academy. The new lecture (she calls them “studies”) was called “The Aryan Philosophy.” It is prefaced with a one-and-a-half page Introductory, the gist of which is summed up in one sentence: “in the subject we have to study tonight, I shall be obliged to speak of our own beliefs and Christian tradition in connection with the teachings of ancient India; I beg that I may not be misunderstood” (Aryan 1). The majority of the Introductory is an assurance that “I am a Christian”—also a theme, we recall, of the purported conversations in Allen. This paper was advertised, even more enthusiastically than the previous one, in the New Orleans Bulletin for October 12, 1875, as “a summary of the discussion which this important subject has undergone among modern British and Continental philosophers,” and described Sarah Dorsey as “erudite and eloquent.” This paper cites David Strauss, Spinoza, F. von Schlegel, Spencer, Plotinus, Schelling, Socrates, Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, Swedenborg, Plato (Phaedon, Phaedrus, Timaeus), Anaxagoras, Lucretius, Confucius, Leibnitz, Laotze, Berkeley, Descartes, Kant, Fichte, Hegel,

118

C. M. Bensick

Kapila and other Hindu philosophers, and other scholars in other fields. Significantly, she also cited Lachelier and Ravaisson. Her stated purpose is “to remind [the Academy of the Sciences] of the spiritual debts that all philosophies of modern time…owe, to much more ancient teachers” than those of the University of France, namely those “of India” (Aryan 3). It is significant to note that in an article reporting her death, the Times-Picayune considered this paper, which it accurately called a “treatise,” as “especially one of particular moment.” Indicating that she wrote more papers than we know, it goes on to say that “in the course of her studies and writings, she paid much attention to the investigation and comparison of the different systems of theology and their relation to science.” Further, this “resulted in the production of several valuable papers on the Eastern system,” all which “evolved from association and correspondence while abroad with several scholars” (7/5/79). An article in the San Francisco Bulletin corroborates this, stating that she was “the author of several essays on philosophical and scientific subjects especially on the Oriental systems of religion and morals, in which she took a lively interest, having … acquired some knowledge of Sanskrit literature” (7/25/79). The New York World places her correspondents in Rome, Calcutta, and Dresden, as well as London and New York. Dorsey’s final lecture, “A Study of the Present Condition of the Question of the Origin of Species,” includes a quotation from Fouillee: “Science is like a ship upon the wave of the sea… it ever advances, through a ceaseless struggle…towards its haven” (Species 225). Besides Darwin, most of the authors mentioned in this lecture are scientists like Huxley and Tyndall, but among philosophers she considers Aristotle, Spencer, Schopenhauer, Strauss, the Hindu philosopher Kapila, Lucretius, and George Henry Lewes, partner of George Eliot and author of a popular history of philosophy. Fortunately, there is abundant evidence as to how this particular lecture was received. According to the New Orleans Republic of October 13, 1875, Dorsey was asked to repeat it; by invitation Dorsey had “redelivered her lecture relative to the origin of species.” Clearly it must have made a strong impression. Calling her a “well-known …essayist of ability,” the Republic stated that she had received “marked appreciation” from a SRO audience composed “of the best intellect of the city.” According to the New Orleans Bulletin of October 13, 1875, “several appropriate commendations were uttered by members of the Academy.” Even more impressive, on October 26, 1875, two weeks later, the Bulletin reported that the Academy heard a lecture “in continuation of the late able review of Mrs. Sarah A. Dorsey before the same body” by its member, Episcopalian Rev. Edward Fontaine, on “the theory of evolution as tested by embryology.” Significantly, The Bulletin was the only New Orleans paper to make this reference to Dorsey. Apparently to increase interest in Fontaine’s lecture, it added, “In the minds of professional and scientific men this theme is one of absorbing interest.” The notice in the Times-Picayune of the same day is subtly different. For one thing, it identified Fontaine as a “noted lecturer” and “Professor,” rather than a priest. It goes out of its way to add praise, calling him as “eminently well qualified” and exalting the topic as “a great theory” which it stated boastfully that he would “sound … to its base” and “treat…with success.” It even

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

119

confidently declared that “the audience will doubtless be a large and appreciative one.” This accumulation of accolades seems to protest too much. It tends to create doubt rather than confidence in Fontaine’s authority. Having read the Bulletin’s connection of Fontaine to Dorsey can’t help but raise the suspicion that the Times-Picayune was using Fontaine to put Sarah Dorsey in her place. It sounds as if it is contrasting Fontaine with an unspoken rival. “Well qualified” compared with whom? “Sounds to the base,” unlike whom? “Treat with success,” unlike whom? Someone who did not know about Dorsey’s lecture could not have learned about it from the TimesPicayune. Had the two been lecturing at the same time it is almost certain that the typical lecture attendee would have chosen the man. Yet plantation owners of either sex were usually well versed in agricultural science. In any case, if the theory of evolution could aggrandize Fontaine by its greatness, would it not do the same for her? Why would somebody at the Times-Picayune want to put Sarah Dorsey in her place? Who would be offended by her presenting herself as a scientific lecturer? The difference between the titles given to Fontaine in the different newspapers seems to give a hint. The paper which put him on the same level with Dorsey (the Bulletin) calls him “Rev”. The paper which does not mention Dorsey (the Times-Picayune) calls him a “Prof.” In fact, although he taught school briefly in a very checkered career, Fontaine was not employed by a university any more than she was; he acquired the honorary title after giving public lectures (on evolution) in New York.1 If Fontaine had had a university education this might have justified such a suspicion. In fact he was a West Point dropout. He is described as an amateur naturalist who delivered addresses and wrote papers on scientific subjects, such as, for example, “Physical geography of the Mississippi River Delta” (1874). Lectures he gave on “ethnological” subjects were published in a volume called How the World Got Peopled in New York (1872). ln any event, the Times-Picayune did not want Fontaine to be associated with the church, as Sarah Dorsey emphatically was. If anything, association with the church was likely to cast doubt on a lecturer’s ability to be disinterested toward the topic of evolutionism. Ironically, both she and Fontaine were Episcopalians and both preached to enslaved people as equals. The clue to the mystery may be the fact that Dorsey referred to the “charming” and “well known” work of “Mr. Fontaine, of this Academy” whom she linked with the Duke of Argyle, St. George Mivart, and Louis Agassiz in a “school of limited variability of species within fixed bounds of genus,” which “seems to embody the largest number of scientists in the world” (114). When we reread Dorsey’s lectures, we can see them as a trilogy. Not only does she liken ancient Hindi Philosophy in a footnote with the contemporary French one (11, 2nd asterisk, 17) but she makes references to Caleb Forshey, who seems to emerge as the champion of materialism, in all three (e.g., “France,” 2–3, “Aryan,” 8, 11, 17, “Species,” 218, but 220*). Part way into her lecture on the origin of species, she shares, “I have thought it good for me to proffer this ‘study’—-in quotation 1

Murphy, D. Edward Fontaine. Texas State Historical Association. tshaonline.org, 10/22/2020.

120

C. M. Bensick

marks—-… as a conclusion to the longer and more important papers, which have been published at the request of the Academy” (Species 110). Two years after delivering her New Orleans lectures, in 1877, Dorsey brought out what would be her last novel, Panola. Not surprisingly, Panola reveals a more philosophically learned Dorsey than the previous novels. It is beyond a doubt the novel that most heavily freighted with Dorsey’s reading. She manages this by including not one but two philosopher-characters, the character of a French doctor and of a studious youth. Her artistic problem is to explain and justify including names and passages of French philosophers in an Anglophone novel, set in the United States. She solves the problem by attributing them to a native Frenchman. Notably, she makes no effort to conceal, or even to minimize, the philosophical material. Two chapters have “philosophy” in the title: “A Sage’s Philosophy” and “The Philosophy of Love.” Most of the references are due to the character Doctor Canonge. He references Swedenborg, Descartes, Kant, Comte, Plato, Spencer, and the Bhagavad Gita. Characters debate on whether French is “Aryan”. The Hindoo are again referenced. The youth cites “[Karl] Krause,” a student of Hegel, Fichte, and Schelling, and teacher of Schopenhauer. Dorsey has him correct the doctor that Krause is not a “pantheist” but a “pan-entheist”. In fact, Dorsey had noted this in her lecture on the University of France, showing that Dorsey is up to date with professional scholarly controversies and current jargon, not just a relisher of cultural masterpieces. To convey this to the reader, she has to include a character who is an academic. It is clear that the story is partly a pretext for the characters’ philosophical debates. As by including a chapter with the title “Was She A Pedant?” (83–84). In which several characters debate this question regarding another in Lucia Dare, she dealt in advance with readers’ anticipated reactions, Dorsey disarms the Panola reader by having a secondary character demand that the philosopher-character not “preach” (97). Panola garnered a substantial review in the New York Tribune on June 21, 1876. According to the Tribune, Panola “combin[ed] the character of a philosophical essay with that of a magazine story.” (If this critic liked philosophizing in a novel, how much more he might have liked it neat?) Regrettably, the reviewer was clearly unaware that she had written three actual philosophical essays. Not every critic appreciated this combination of a philosophical essay with a magazine story. The New Orleans Times decried Dorsey’s “pedantic flights” (1/31/67). The Charleston Daily News was wry: “Learning… is the weak point of our authoress” (1/30/67). Rev. Canon Robertson referred obscurely in the Contemporary Review to “bits of Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, German, French, and other tongues …profusely scattered over Mrs. Dorsey’s pages” (1868). One wonders if she would still have fallen back on fiction if her lectures had reached a wider audience. We have seen that Dorsey’s lectures were well covered, and well received, in Southern and other newspapers. However, “dailies” such as newspaper accounts are ephemeral. This explains how it can be that a speaker could receive rave newspaper reviews and yet be completely forgotten. Dorsey’s lack of philosophical historical notice would lead us to assume she had not received any notice in a journal, which in turn would have been explained by the fact that her lectures were, lectures. To be reviewed in a journal almost required being a book.

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

121

As we saw, Dorsey’s lectures were printed, but only as pamphlets, in the case of the first two, and in the case of the second, in a weekly. The pamphlets were acquired by the libraries of numerous largely regional societies, but this was apparently a dead end. Ironically, the lectures that were published as pamphlets and thus sent to scientific societies no doubt simply because they were delivered at the New Orleans Academy, were on the least scientific topics, whereas the third, most scientific lecture, was only printed in a magazine, and thus not sent to the scientific societies. There were, however, two cases in which the pamphlets were sent to non-scientific periodicals, one philosophical, and one literary. The philosophical one, a standard quarterly. was based in St. Louis. It seems probable that it was as the organ of the St. Louis Philosophical Society that it received the pamphlets; anyway, New Orleans intellectual news was probably heard in St. Louis. The literary magazine—a oneperson enterprise, not the organ of any organization—was based in Boston. Both acknowledged the reception of the pamphlets, but only the editor of the literary gave evidence of reading them. He was, therefore, likely the first individual before a encyclopedist to read one, far less both, of the pamphlets. It is therefore highly interesting to know who took a personal interest in Dorsey’s pamphlets. Fortunately, since The Literary World was a one-man show, we know who the author of the notices was. His name was S. R. Crocker. Most of the available information about him is to be found in the indispensable History of American Magazines by Frank Luther Mott, along with a handful of newspaper notices. Crocker first seems to have surfaced as the founder, in 1870, of LW, “a monthly help and monitor to book buyers and readers.” According to Mott, he claimed to be “‘absolutely independent,’” holding “‘no favor for …North or East/West or South’” (Mott, 1938, 454). He had trained as a lawyer but seemingly never practiced. He was hired in 1872 by the publisher Little, Brown. He made three translations from the French: The Tomorrow of Death: The Future Life According to Science by Louis Figuier, in 1872; Stories of Infinity, by C. Flammarion, and notably, My Sister Jeannie, by George Sand. It is obvious that Crocker’s interests would have predisposed him to be interested in Dorsey’s lectures. But was he a respectable critic? The Portland Daily called him “able and distinguished” (1875). The respected Springfield Republican described him as “a faithful literary worker, exceedingly well informed, usually genial and of good judgment,” thought the magazine “admirable” and deserving to be read “by thousands and thousands” (1874). Unfortunately, it had a small circulation and was little known in the south or west, although as far as the South was concerned this would obviously not have harmed Dorsey. Worse, Crocker fell ill in 1876 and died in 1878 before he could do Dorsey any more good. So, what did Crocker think of Dorsey? In the May, 1874, Literary World, Crocker reported that “Mrs. Sarah A. Dorsey, a lady from Tensas Parish, Louisiana, was recently honored by an invitation to lecture before the Louisiana [sic] Academy of Sciences.” He noted that she was “the first member of her sex who has received such a compliment”. According to him, her audience was “some of the most brilliant…ever gathered in the South,” and her lecture was “a signal success.” It’s uncertain how he gained this information; he may have had a friend in New Orleans, or he might have

122

C. M. Bensick

consulted the New Orleans newspapers in the Boston Athenaeum, unless indeed he was a subscriber. He surmised that she might be “known, in Aesthetic circles,” “better…in England… than at the North” (Crocker, 1874a, 191). If her visit to England was recorded in any British Newspaper, or in any letters or journals by her English friends, these remain to be found. Half a year later, Crocker mentioned Dorsey again. In the December Literary World, he wrote: “Mrs. Sarah A. Dorsey, has recently been elected a member of the New Orleans Academy of Science.” This he could have learned from reading her lecture on the origin of species, in the first paragraph of which she refers to “the first opportunity I have had, of acknowledging in person the great honor paid me in my election as a corresponding member of this academy.” Crocker identifies this as, like the initial invitation to speak, “an honor never before bestowed upon a woman” (Crocker 112). The question arises if it was Crocker’s own impulse to bring up the matter of gender. In fact, he was following her example. In the lecture on the University of France, Dorsey says, “I am glad to be permitted to read before you tonight, as a Woman of my people” (France, 2). In the lecture on the Aryan philosophy, she says, “How fortunate we are to live in such an age when … every hand …even that of woman, can lend some little help, to lift [the fetters of superstition] from off the necks of … humanity” (Aryan, 1). Another half year later, Crocker wrote about Dorsey again. This is important, because it is apparently the first comment made by a critic after reading the pamphlet publications of the two first lectures instead of merely hearing them. It is worth, therefore, quoting in full: We have received copies of two papers prepared by Mrs. Sarah A. Dorsey for The New Orleans Academy of Science. The first is an exposition of the Philosophy of The Academy [sic] of France; the second treats the Aryan Philosophy. The former is a comprehensive statement of the philosophical opinions of the leading French philo sophers; the second, a clear account of the old Indian Philosophy. Both essays are learned and spirited. (Crocker, 23)

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

123

8.6 Twentieth Century Rediscovery The twentieth century intellectual, as opposed to the novelistic or historical rediscovery of Sarah Dorsey, can be seen as the fruit of the finding in 1954 by Marcus Cunliffe of the cache of letters we have mentioned from Dorsey to Edward Lyulph Stanley, in the papers of the Stanley family at Manchester library. Cunliffe found that “most of the time (in her letters) she was discussing books and authors, literary and philosophical problems.” She “recommended books to [Thomas] Carlyle and Dean [Arthur Penrhyn] Stanley.” She “moved with the great currents of AngloAmerican ideas”. However, Cunliffe did not think it could be said that her letters were “profound.” Essentially, he thought she was a “bluestocking.” Her letters struck him as “fresh, sincere, and likable,” but the fact that her “mind” possessed an “intellectualized quality” he simply found “odd[]” (Cunliffe 379). It was not until 1964 that another scholar found out about her nonfiction writing. Again, it was due to the Stanley letters. By likening Dorsey to an established philosopher this scholar verged on identifying her as one. In “A Louisiana Estimate of an ‘American Rousseau’: Sarah Anne Dorsey on Henry David Thoreau,” Van Akin Burd asserted “Mrs. Dorsey shared [her character] Agnes Graham’s interest in Transcendentalism” (Burd, 1964, 303). In fact, by identifying Thoreau with Rousseau and expressing admiration of Thoreau she in effect associates herself with Rousseau. In addition, Burd—a literature professor, specializing in Ruskin—notices as did we Dorsey’s references to Emerson in the Recollections of Allen. He even tracks down her quotation to the particular essay, “Spiritual Laws.” This strengthens the association with Transcendentalism, and indirectly, philosophy, albeit she herself names Emerson “a seer and a poet,” no doubt by contrast with Bolingbroke (Allen, 314). Sarah Dorsey was included in the 1971 Notable American Women. However, though both Cunliffe and Burd are listed in the bibliography, the text is primarily consumed with life events, especially the late-life Jefferson Davis episode. Where her lectures could have been discussed, John Q. Anderson only says only that she “continued to read in oriental philosophical and religion,” adding that “her lecture, ‘The Aryan Philosophy,’ was delivered before the New Orleans Academy of Sciences and was later printed” (Anderson, 1971, 505). Happily, after another decade, decades later, another scholar came close to making Dorsey a philosopher. J. B. Smallwood, who was professor of history at The University of North Texas, writing in Lives of Mississippi Authors, edited by J. B. Lloyd, believed that “it is Dorsey’s nonfiction writings that make her an interesting literary figure” (Smallwood, 1980, 140). (He restricts the time and place to the “south of the civil war period,” but that is due to the book for which he is writing.) These same “nonfiction writings” nudge Smallwood to go farther than any other writer to reach “the conclusion that she possessed an unusually inquiring mind”—even “considerable analytical ability”. What leads Smallwood to this conclusion is as interesting as the conclusion itself. It seems to be the awareness that she met and corresponded with leading transatlantic intellectuals. Another reason seems to be her reading. “She drew … from many sources, including Swedenborg and”—like Burd—“Emerson.”

124

C. M. Bensick

He finds “a strong Emersonian quality,” especially in her “combination of religious and scientific ideas.” Like us he noticed that “she reflected these ideas in her novels as well as her nonfiction writings”. Even more than Burd, Smallwood recognizes that “her admiration of Emerson is very unusual.” It is “her views on science and religion” that “do not fit in to the Old South tradition of conservatism and classicism”. Where did Dorsey get this exposure to Emerson? And why do different a response to Augusta Evans? Undoubtedly her Philadelphia education and lifelong friendship with her former teacher, Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta, poet, author of an oft-reprinted Handbook of Universal Literature and famous salonniere first in Providence and later in New York, one of whose frequent visitors was Emerson himself. If her husband had not refused her desire to visit Botta, it is conceivable Dorsey might have met him, as well as other members of America’s top literati. Evans, by contrast, rather than going to school as a student, was taught by her mother and taught her own siblings at home. She was a prodigious reader, but without trained professional guidance. As well, Evans was a Methodist, Dorsey as we’ve said, an Episcopalian. Returning to Smallwood. How is it that he is so impressed by Dorsey’s nonfiction writings? What kind of thinker did Smallwood seem to think she is? He implicitly admits she had a “Philosophy” by stating she had a “religious philosophy.” This is what he traced to Swedenborg and Emerson, who were both increasingly being treated as philosophers (Smallwood 13). And he does not only associate her with philosophies of the past; he has also been struck that she “anticipated later 19th century theologies.” (One wishes he had specified these.) However, his final word about influence is that she was “particularly influenced by Spencer”. This bears some attention. We have seen her discussing Spencer in her lecture on the philosophy of the university of France (Dorsey 2). Perhaps unexpectedly, she dwells on him more in the lecture on the Aryan philosophy. The lecture is prefixed by an “Introductory.” This closes with a single-sentence paragraph, where she cites what she calls “the noble words of Herbert Spencer.” She paraphrases: “the highest truth [the Wise man] knows, he will fearlessly utter, knowing that, let what will come of it, he is … playing his right part in the world” (Dorsey Aryan 2). She explains Indian philosopher Kapila’s “inference of a First Principle” by equation with Spencer’s inference of the same (Aryan 13). Near the middle of the lecture, she calls Spencer—“Herbert Spencer”—outright not only “the first Thinker of England,” but “perhaps the greatest philosopher that England has ever had” (Aryan 23). Though this judgment must seem either naive or ignorant or simply eccentric today, it would not have been quite so much so in 1874. Even J. S. Mill regarded him with respect, and he was more esteemed in the US than the UK (Perrin, 2018). Dorsey concedes that Spencer is “not..,the greatest savant, but” insists—repeating, in capital letters and italics—on his being “the greatest Philosopher.” Revealing which work of Spencer’s she has had in mind (“his Psychology”) (Dorsey Aryan 23), she excerpts a substantial quotation, including a chapter name and page number. The Spencer quotation ends: “‘we learn

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

125

that the one thing permanent is the Unknowable Reality hidden behind all these changing shapes’” (Dorsey Aryan 23). This quotation is surprising to an American reader. It recalls by its similarity passages in Emerson, especially the end of the 1860 essay “Illusions” (Colacurcio, 2021, 239–240). Emerson and Spencer are not typically equated. Although the editors of the collected works of both are aware that they met and wrote about each other in their journals and/or letters, this fact was not widely known. Dorsey thus fulfills the function of teaching Americans and British about their own and each other’s philosophies. Dorsey calls on Spencer again in her 2-part lecture on the question of the origin of species, more than in the other two lectures. She is interested in how Spencer’s theory of evolution differs from Darwin’s. In Part 1, Spencer is first named as one of a group “who accept evolution, rather than pure Darwinism” (Species 111). According to her, Spencer thinks that “it is not at all necessary that the monad which makes man, should ever have passed through an oyster or an ape” (Dorsey Species 217). On the contrary, man “began with the finality of being man”; “Hence,” Dorsey observes, “we see the strongest admission of a first principle, and of the law of final causes” (Dorsey 217). Later, she teams Spencer with Thomas Huxley in accepting “the first principle, that [the physical and psychical] are modifications of one reality” (Dorsey 218). She describes the view of [Jean Louis Armand] Quatrefages as “very similar to that of … Spencer.” She speculates that Thomas Huxley would “accept the first principle with which Darwin and Spencer content themselves” (Species 219). When we she comes to “sum up our classes,” she ranks Spencer as the leader of the “Evolutionists” (Species 220). Finally, she identifies Spencer’s approach as “dynamism” (Specie 221). This not only validates Smallwood’s suggestion as to Spencer’s importance to Dorsey, but points a way for scholars of women philosophers to pursue.

8.7 Conclusion What criteria are being accepted nowadays for American women to get accepted as philosophers? One is familiarity with and enthusiasm about Emerson. This would seem to merit unproblematic acceptance to Transcendentalism. The rub is, is it philosophy? Have Transcendentalists been accepted as philosophers? It fluctuates. Since Stanley Cavell there has grown up a movement to crown Emerson a proto pragmatist. This in turn is his (Emerson’s) ticket to admission to the club. Pragmatism’s title to be a philosophy for anyone but James, Peirce, and Dewey also fluctuates. Russell Goodman, in his authoritative Oxford History of Philosophy series volume, feels obliged, due to his book bearing the title American Philosophy Before Pragmatism, to “say something about pragmatism” (Goodman, 2015, 6). He asserts that pragmatism “is usually thought to be the only original American Philosophical movement, and which, according to several recent interviews, had something to do with Emerson’s philosophy” (Goodman, 2015, 6). He goes on, “I

126

C. M. Bensick

am not going to argue that…Franklin or Emerson ‘are pragmatists.’” For Goodman “even William James is not simply a pragmatist.” He “did not identify himself as such until … 1897”; he “continued to write books such as A Pluralistic Universe, that are tangential to his pragmatism” (Goodman 6–7) The implication seems to be that pragmatism was a phase William James went through, and outgrew. Someone who was “simply a pragmatist” was not interesting.2 In an unsettled case, it seems to matter what the individual thought of themself to settle whether they are to be accepted as a philosopher. It’s not enough for a historian to call them one. By that standard, Dorsey was a philosopher. To Lyulph Stanley she once recorded telling someone who accused her of being a “rabid Republican” that “I am only a Philosopher” (Dorsey qtd. in Wyatt-Brown, 1996, 148). In the beginning of the first part of her lecture on the origin of species, she declares, “I wish to take stock of philosophical opinions” (Dorsey Species 108). In the second part, she quotes Elizabeth Barrett Browning saying “‘that by desiring what is perfectly good…we are part of the divine power against evil,’” then states: “It is in this spirit that I study philosophy, and venture to speak of it” (Dorsey Species 110). This research shows that uncovering past women philosophers is nothing if not educational. As we have seen, to be able to appreciate Sarah Dorsey requires scrambling to educate oneself in several directions. It reminds us that women’s philosophy is human philosophy. Acknowledgements I wish to thank Prof. Phyllis Cole, for helpful reading and comments on a manuscript; the UCLA Library System for providing access to its research databases to the Research Scholars of the Center of the Study of Women until 2015; Brenda Johnson-Grau for producing the first version of this paper in the Newsletter of the UCLA Center for the Study of Women in 2016; the Program Chair of the Society for the Study of Women Philosophers for placing the expanded paper on the program for the 2018 meeting of the Eastern Division of the American Philosophical Association; Nathan Eckstrand for editing the 2018 paper for the Blog of the APA; the members of Academia.edu who commented on several drafts; Dr. Kristine Gunnell and my fellow Research Affiliates arranging for and/or attending the 2019 “Brown Bag” presentation of the paper for the CSW; Dr. Katja Antoine for editing the latest paper at csw.ucla.edu; Prof. Mary Ellen Waithe for suggesting that a revised version of the APA blog post be included in the present volume; to Prof. George Vlahakis for accepting the suggestion; and especially Prof. Chelsea Harry for indispensable editing. Errors are all mine.

Bibliography Anonymous. (1879). Janet’s Final Causes. Mind, 4, 139. Anderson, J. Q., & Dorsey, S. A. (1971). Notable American women (E. T. James et al., Eds.). Belknap Press of Harvard. Ansell-Pearson, K., & Schrift, A. (Eds.). (2014). The new century: Bergsonism. Taylor and Francis. 2

I explore these questions in “Restoring Women to the History of Philosophy: Notes on the American Case,” forthcoming in The Journal of the History of Women Philosophers.

8 The Francophile Philosophy, Science, and Literature of Sarah A. Dorsey

127

Burd, S. (1964, Summer). Sarah Dorsey on Thoreau: A Louisiana estimate of an ‘American Rousseau.’ Louisiana History, 5(3), 296–309. Caldwell, W. (1898, September). Philosophy and the newer sociology. Contemporary Review, LXXIV, 411–426. Colacurcio, M. J. (2021). Our conversation with nature: Emerson’s Cave and Plato’s allegory. In Doctrine and difference II: Essays in classic American literature (pp. 220–246). Routledge. Copleston, F. (1975). History of philosophy (Vol. IX). Burns and Oates. Crocker, S. M. (1874a, May). Literary news. Literary World, 3–4, 191. Crocker, S. M. (1874b, December). Literary news. Literary World, 5–9, 112. Crocker, S. M. (1875, July). Literary news. Literary World, 6, 23. Cunliffe M. (1954). Notes on the Dorsey-Stanley correspondence. Bulletin of the University of Manchester Rylands Library. www.Manchester.ac.uk/ De Biran, M. (2016). The relation between the physical and moral in man (D. Meacham, Ed.). Bloomsbury. De Biran, M. (2020). Immediate apperception (A. Aloisi & M. Piazza, Ed., M. Sinclair, Trans.). Bloomsbury. Dorsey, S. (1866). Recollections of Henry Watkins Allen, Brigadier General. Doolady. Dorsey, S. (1867) Lucia Dare. Doolady. Dorsey, S. [Filia]. (1868). Agnes Graham. Claxton. Dorsey, S. (1872). Athalie; or, a southern villeggiatura. Claxton. Dorsey, S. (1874). On the philosophy of the University of France. Ellis. Dorsey, S. (1875). The Aryan philosophy. Ellis. Dorsey, S. (1876), On the present condition of the question of the origin of species. Part one. New Orleans Monthly Review, 3(2), 108–118. Part two: 3(3), 216–226. Dorsey, S. (Trans.). (1877a). Lachelier’s basis of induction. Journal of Speculative Philosophy, 11(1), 1–19. Dorsey, S. (1877b). Panola. Doolady. Dunham, J. (2015). From habit to monads. British Journal of the History of Philosophy, 23(6), 1085–1105. Evans, A. (1859). Beulah. Derby and Jackson. Forshey, C. (1873). The entities and thoughts on development and the origin of species. James Buckley. Fortier, A. (1894). Louisiana studies. Hansell. Gardner, S. (2011). Idealism and naturalism. In A. Stone (Ed.), Edinburgh critical history of 19th century philosophy (pp. 89–110). Edinburgh University Press. Gilson, E. (1966). A history of philosophy (4 Vols.). Random House. Goodman, R. (2015). American philosophy before pragmatism (p. 155). Oxford University Press. Grossman, J., & Rischlin, R. (2003). William James in Russian culture (p. 94). Lexington. Gutting, G. (2001). French philosophy of the twentieth century. Cambridge University Press. Hayward, J. E. S. (1963). Solidarity and the Reformist Sociology of Fouillee. American Journal of Economics and Society, 22(1&2), 205–222, 303–312. Howe, J. W. (1867). From the oak to the olive. Lee and Shepard. James, W. (1896). The dilemma of determinism. In The will to believe and other essays in popular philosophy (pp. 145–183). Longmans. James W (1900). Letters, Vol. 1–2 in one (H. James, Ed.). Little, Brown. James, W. (1918). Principles of psychology (2 Vols.). Holt. First published 1890. James, W. (1979) Some problems of philosophy. Works of William James (Vol. 7, F. Burckhardt & F. Bowers, Eds.). Harvard University Press. First published 1911. Jordan, J. (2006). Pascal’s Wager. Clarendon. Journal of Speculative Philosophy. (1877). Books Received. “Dorsey, S, Aryan philosophy.” Vol. 11–12, 224. Kuklick, B. (2001). A history of philosophy in America. Clarendon. Luft, S., & Capeilleres, F. (2014). Neokantianism in Germany and France (pp. 47–86). See Ansell.

128

C. M. Bensick

McGrath, L. (2015). Fouillee. Modern Intellectual History, 12(2), 295–323. Meacham, D. (Ed.). (2016). Maine de Biran. See Biran. Mears, J. (1874, January). Recent spiritualist philosophy in France. Presbyterian Quarterly and Princeton Review, n.s., 3, 679–697. Meigs, C. (1850). Introductory lectures. T K and P G Collins. Merrick, C. (1901). Old times in Dixie. New Grafton Press. Moore, F. C. T. (2013). French spiritualist philosophy. In A. Schrift & D. Conway (Eds.), Nineteenth century philosophy. Bloomsbury. Mott, F. (1938). History of American magazines (Vol. III, p. 454). Harvard University Press. Nell, G. (Ed.). (2013). Basic income and free market. Palgrave Macmillan. New International Encyclopedia (2nd ed., Vol 18). Dodd. Noel Hon, R. (1874, February). Causality. Contemporary Review, XXIII, 380–406. Perrin, R. (2018). Herbert Spencer primary and secondary bibliography. Routledge. Ravaisson, F. (2016). Selected essays (M. Sinclair, Ed.). Bloomsbury. Rescher, N. (1985). Pascal’s Wager. Notre Dame University Press. Revue des Deux Mondes. Britannica.com. Retrieved 8/20/2022. Richard, N. (2018). The French philosophical crisis. In J. Feichtinger (Ed.), Worlds of positivism (pp. 155–188). Palgrave Macmillan. Richardson, R. (2015). Emerson: The mind on fire (p. 54). University of California. Robertson, J. C. (1868, May). Henry Watkins Allen. Contemporary Review, 8, 40. Sinclair, M. (2016). Being inclined: Ravaisson’s philosophy of habit. Oxford University Press. Smallwood, J. (1980). Sarah Dorsey Lives of Mississippi authors (p. 140). University Press of Mississippi. Sofroniou, A. (2017). Processes of thinking. Lulu.com. Stanton, E., et al. (1886). History of woman suffrage (Vol. 3). Susan B Anthony. Stone, A. (Ed.). (2011). Edinburgh critical history of 19th c. philosophy. Edinburgh University Press. Taylor, E. (1996). William James on Consciousness. See Grossman. Unsigned. (1892). Biographical and Historical Memoirs of Louisiana. Goodspeed Publishing Co. Walker, J. M. (1874). Life of Captain Joseph Fry. J. B. Burr. Weber, A. (1904). History of philosophy (F. Thilly, Trans.). Scribners. Wyatt-Brown, B. (1996). The house of Percy. Oxford University Press. Wyatt-Brown, B. (2011, March). A woman of uncommon mind. Mississippi History Now. mshist orynow.mdah.ms.gov

Carol M. Bensick earned her Ph.D. in American Literary and Intellectual History from 1620 to 1914 at Cornell University. She has taught most recently at the University of California. At Riverside. Her latest book publication was the edited collection A Passion for Getting it Right: Essays and Appreciations in Honor of Michael J. Colacurcio’s Fifty Years of Teaching. As a Research Affiliate of the UCLA Center for the Study of Women, she gave conference papers and published blog posts on unknown and barely known women philosophers such as Nancy Kingsbury Wollstonecraft of New Hampshire and Julia Ward Howe of Massachusetts, well as on John Dewey’s and William James’s interactions with women philosophical students and friends. Her chapter on philosopher Amalie Hathaway of Michigan is forthcoming in The Oxford Handbook of American and British Women Philosophers in the Nineteenth Century.

Chapter 9

Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought Ivory Day

Abstract The purpose of this chapter is to argue that the work of Susan Stebbing, an analytic philosopher and proponent of both common sense philosophy and logicism at the time of their emergence in English scholarship, provides a better model for an analysis of continental thought than the work of her contemporary, Bertrand Russell. The comparison is important as it shows why Stebbing’s work should be chosen over Russell’s if the goal is to find a quintessential analytic approach to continental thought from an influential and early figure of analytic philosophy whose approach also engages and does justice to the continental thought it addresses. To do so the article demonstrates why the methods Stebbing utilised when analysing philosophy from traditions different from her own were superior to Russell’s tactics for the same purposes. Their respective interpretations of the philosophy of Henri Bergson are compared to give a concrete example of the results of their respective methods of understanding. The article begins with a general account of what makes Stebbing’s approach particularly effective. This includes the premises she adopts and her tactics of analysis. It then gives a more elaborate account of these vis-à-vis her study of Bergson’s philosophy. Following is an explanation of Russell’s tendencies when analysing philosophical frameworks different to his own, including Bergson’s. Finally, Stebbing and Russell’s respective understanding of Bergson’s philosophy is compared on four general pillars: classification of Bergson’s work (with focus on its purported rapport with pragmatism); Bergson’s stance on intellectualism; the philosophical pertinence of his style; and the place of argumentation in his philosophy. These comparisons demonstrate the superiority of Stebbing’s approach.

One will likely see it as banal to note that, within the analytic tradition, significant engagement with the philosophical traditions to which analytic philosophy has given

I. Day (B) UNAM, Programa de Becas Posdoctorales en la UNAM. Becaria del Instituto de Investigaciones Filosóficas/asesorada por el doctor Guillermo Hurtado, Mexico City, Mexico © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_9

129

130

I. Day

the name “continental philosophy” is not common practice. Likewise, when wellknown analytic philosophers have sought to analyze continental work, the results are often confused critiques that distort the original arguments. This is due, more often than not, to a lack of thorough comprehension of the texts being analysed, generally due to an air of indifference to those traditions. Bertrand Russell’s body of work on continental thought is a good example of this. Again, it is hardly controversial to remark that Russell is often considered to have largely misunderstood the continental philosophy he addressed. Consequently, his critiques of it miss the mark. Be that as it may, when looking for an analytic perspective of continental philosophy it is common enough practice to resort to Russell’s work both in the continental and analytic traditions. We have often been told that Russell’s studies are used to this end because they provide a quintessential analytic perspective, one that played a crucial role in the formation of that very perspective. Consequently, Russell’s work serves as a good example for an analytic approach to continental thought. However, to use Russell as a stepping stone between the analytic and continental traditions is likely to prove disappointing for anyone who hopes to engage the two in a genuine way that does justice to both sides.1 Luckily, there are exceptions to analytic philosophy’s generally lackadaisical engagement with continental philosophy. Susan Stebbing’s writings on continental thought is one such exception. Although no doubt lesser known than her contemporary, Bertrand Russell, she nonetheless played a key role in the formation of analytic philosophy. Stebbing was both a strong proponent of common-sense philosophy—G. E. Moore’s in particular—in conjunction with logical thinking (see Stebbing, 1939) and a key figure in the dissemination of Russell and the Vienna School’s logicism in English scholarship. Indeed, her book A Modern Introduction to Logic (1930) was the first to offer an accessible account of Russell and Whitehead’s work on logic (Beaney, 2016; Chapman, 2018). As was aforementioned, it is thought that Russell’s work on continental thought should be utilised because it reveals an approach to continental philosophy from a paradigmatic analytic mindset that was formative to that very mindset. Stebbing, however, fits the same criteria. She was a key figure in the dissemination of the two fundamental branches of analytic philosophy during its emergence. As an avowed analytic philosopher who worked with the belief in common sense philosophy and the philosophical usefulness of logic, her critiques of continental philosophy are very much from a model analytic perspective.2 But crucially, Stebbing’s analyses of 1

Another popular example is John Searle’s “Reply to Derrida: Reiterating the Differences”. This is a response to Derrida’s essay “Signature Event Context” (later published in Limited Inc.) which is a critique of J. L. Austin’s theory of the illucutionary act. Searle’s essay is disappointing for similar reasons to Russell’s. Namely, it does not suggest that Searle sought to genuinely understand the perspective from which Derrida interpreted and critiqued Austin’s theory and took instead his first (and erroneous) impression of Derrida’s analysis as sufficient to critique it. It follows that Searle’s criticism has little to do with the original in that it grasps neither the basic conjectures of Derrida’s interpretation nor the ensuing critique. 2 By 1917 Stebbing’s approach was always within the common-sense tradition propounding logic. However, Stebbing propounded a moderated logicism that avoids systematisation, unlike logical

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

131

philosophers working outside of her own philosophical tradition reveal engagement with and insight into their thought. As such she proves a good alternative to Russell if the goal is to find an archetypal analytic approach that manages to engage with the continental work it addresses. In what follows, I provide evidence of this approach in Stebbing’s work. The examples I provide are focused on Stebbing’s analysis of Henri Bergson’s philosophy in her book Pragmatism and French Voluntarism which are contrasted to Russell’s analysis of Bergson’s philosophy in his paper “Philosophy of Bergson”. Despite that we must limit ourselves to one in-depth example for the exposition at hand, it should be noted that Russell’s writing on Bergson is just one example of Russell’s many attempts that fail to properly grasp the ideas laid out in different philosophical systems. Similarly, Stebbing’s writing on Bergson is just one example of many rigorous and engaged studies of that nature. Bergson’s philosophy was chosen firstly because Stebbing dedicated a large portion of Pragmatism and French Voluntarism to it. As such, her research on Bergson provides us with a precise example of her methods that we want to address while remaining within the scope of one concise exposition. Secondly, due to Bergson’s prevalent albeit fleeting popularity in England at the time, he is a continental philosopher working in quite a different philosophical framework to Russell that the latter nonetheless addressed. Russell and Stebbing’s respective analyses of Bergson’s philosophy then function as a clear point of contrast between their distinct tendencies when approaching philosophical systems different from their own. We begin with a general rundown of what makes Stebbing’s approach particularly effective. This includes the premises she adopts and her methodology. We then give a more elaborate account of all of this in her illustration of Bergson’s philosophy. We proceed to explain Russell’s tendencies when addressing philosophical frameworks different from his own, including Bergson’s. Finally, we compare Stebbing and Russell’s respective understanding of Bergson’s philosophy on four general pillars: classification of Bergson’s work (with a focus on its purported affinity to pragmatism); Bergson’s stance on intellectualism; the methodological pertinence of his style; and the place of argumentation in his philosophy.

9.1 Stebbing’s Analyses One of what we consider to be Stebbing’s best insights is found in the prologue to her book Thinking to Some Purpose. Here she defines the English mentality. To do so Stebbing looks at the comments of the English politicians Selborne, Baldwin and Chamberlain regarding how the English think. She then looks at a discussion between Chamberlain and the French president M. Painlevé regarding the mindset empiricism and Russell’s logicism. Stebbing focused instead on the facts in a case-by-case way (see Beaney, 2016). An appeal to logic and reason (although less-so common sense) is also found in Pragmatism and French Voluntarism.

132

I. Day

of their respective countrymen. Stebbing finds a definition of the English mentality by way of contrasting it to the French: “Indeed, I believe that the most fundamental difference between the French mental outlook—or ‘the Latin mentality’ as Painlevé preferred to call it—and that of the English is that the French tend to seek systems at the expense of the facts to be systematized, whilst the English tend to avoid anything approaching to a system” (Stebbing, 1939). Admittedly, Stebbing goes on to critique the French mentality, arguing that the English way of thinking is philosophically superior (she was an avowed analytic philosopher after all). But the way Stebbing exposits her search for a definition of the ‘English mentality’ reveals something quite fundamental to her understanding of thought in general and, particularly, to how she approaches the study of thought. From a certain light it also reveals something quite true about the difference between analytic and French philosophy, although now is not the time to get into such a discussion. Stebbing uses the premise that thought and thus ways of thinking differ depending on the mindset within which one is immersed. In order to understand a given mindset, Stebbing seeks to position herself within it as much as possible. This she does through comparative analyses focused on what people both working in a given framework and expounding it have to say about it. The comparative analysis is realised in a myriad of ways, spanning from comparison between specific examples of a particular discussion within a given mindset, to general tendencies that define different mindsets.3 This insight specifically applied to philosophical traditions different from her own is most thoroughly exemplified in Stebbing’s book Pragmatism and French Voluntarism. It is manifest throughout Stebbing’s various explanations of philosophical works, but we will focus here on her analysis of Bergson’s philosophy. ∗ ∗ ∗ Stebbing’s principal goal in Pragmatism and French Voluntarism was to clarify the common misconception that what she calls French voluntarism and American pragmatism of the time were fundamentally similar, as propounded by Schlimmer (Stebbing, 1914). However, it becomes evident fairly early on in the book that its content spans far beyond the clarification of such a conflation. The book is a thorough analysis and critique of French voluntarism in general (and to a lesser extent of American pragmatism), with Bergson as the central figure. The scrutiny of French voluntarism and its consistent comparison to American pragmatism is also used partly as a means to understand and discuss Bergson’s philosophy. His work is carefully and thoroughly studied and much of the time spent on other philosophers falls back onto a comparative analysis with Bergson’s philosophy.4 Indeed, the first half of the 3

It is also noteworthy that Stebbing approaches even the ‘English mentality’, that she is part of in such a way. This illustrates how this insight was essential to Stebbing’s approach to thought in general and that she utilised these methods even when looking at ideas she was quite familiar with. 4 Stebbing also dedicates the most time to Bergson in her critiques in the concluding chapter. Her critiques of other philosophers also often find their way back to a comparison with Bergson’s philosophy.

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

133

body of the book is largely dedicated to tracing the philosophical path leading up to Bergson. Let us now look at how this is done. Stebbing traces Bergson’s philosophy to the wider tradition she calls French voluntarism. She explains French voluntarism as “those philosophers who agree, not only in their revolt against excessive intellectualism, but also in their tendency to conceive the ultimate nature of reality as some form of will […] and to base their philosophy upon the psychological fact of the immediate consciousness of volitional activity” (ibid.). She considers the eighteenth century philosopher Maine de Biran to be the personality that changed this current. It is with de Biran, Stebbing explains, that the self as an acting force becomes an essential line of thought in French philosophy. Stebbing then places this voluntarist tendency in relation to a wider propensity in French philosophical thought; that which is against the strong current of Cartesian rationalism, or what she calls anti-rational—or anti-intellectual—absolutism. She explains how de Biran’s philosophy arose in large part due to a retaliation against the prominence of Descartes’s all-encompassing rationalism. She then notes that the philosophy of Nicolas Malebranche had a strong influence on de Biran. Malebranche, who wrote in the same century as Descartes, began the retaliation against Descartes’s rationalism early on. Stebbing also links French voluntarism to Etienne Bonnet de Condillac as he was the other principle philosophical influence on de Biran. Although not aligned with the values of the voluntarists, much of de Biran’s writings were aimed at finding an alternative to what she calls Condillac’s sensibilism (perhaps now better classified as empiricism) as much as to continuing Malebranche’s fight against the Cartesian institution. Having sufficiently placed de Biran’s philosophy within its contemporaneous philosophical context, Stebbing proceeds to delineate the voluntarist line of thought in France directly traceable from de Biran up to Bergson. This she calls spiritual activism. To do so, she discusses the work of Jean Gaspard Félix Ravaisson, the intellectual heir of de Biran. She places Ravaisson’s philosophy, as she did with de Biran’s, in relation to that of his primary philosophical influences: de Biran and eighteenth-nineteenth century German philosopher, F. W. J. Schelling. Stebbing then explains nineteenth-twentieth century French spiritualist philosopher and historian, Emile Boutraux’s philosophy as a response to Ravaisson’s, followed by similar analyses of a few other less prominent figures. Stebbing concludes that spiritual activism can be defined using the words of a disciple of Ravaisson: “thus the realm of final causes, penetrating without destroying that of efficient causes, substitutes everywhere force for inertia, life for death and liberty for fatalism” (ibid.). Having thus outlined the pillars of Bergson’s philosophy that are directly traceable to his philosophical lineage, she delves into the specifics of Bergson’s writings themselves. Because Stebbing has already explained the key points of Bergson’s philosophy that she considers him to have inherited, she begins the exposition of his thought with what she sees as original to it, proceeding to give a general outline of his philosophy. True to form, this is done in contrast to other philosophical tendencies, pragmatism in particular, but also to prominent philosophers such as Schopenhauer and Kant.

134

I. Day

It is here noteworthy that, as Stebbing understands the complexity and delicacy of the notion of intuition in Bergson’s philosophy, she dedicates more time to it. She elucidates Bergson’s notion of intuition in a similar comparative and genealogical fashion as outlined above. She contrasts the ideas put forth in Bergson’s later works to those in his early writings to reveal how intuition has evolved in Bergson’s philosophy and why. Consequently, this brings out the key points of dialogue around it, illuminating what is consistent in Bergson’s thought, and so, an essential buildingblock of his philosophy. In the discussion of intuition Stebbing also links tendencies in Bergson’s work to those found in the thought of Ravaisson and de Biran. Next, Stebbing seeks to explain Bergson’s views on truth, although she does not believe that Bergson wrote explicitly on it as an epistemological inquiry.5 Rather than relying on her own interpretation, Stebbing looks to Bergson’s followers as they wrote specifically on truth within a Bergsonist framework. As she writes “in the philosophical writings of [Bergson’s] disciples MM. Le Roy and Wilbois the conception of truth becomes the centre of discussion” (ibid.). Stebbing concludes the exposition of Bergsonism by relating it to Aristotle’s conception of Theoria. The rest of the chapter traces the other dialogues she considers to fall under the category of French voluntarism emerging around the same time period as spiritual activism. While explaining the similarities of these other branches of French voluntarism to philosophers well outside of the French voluntarist discourse, she delves into key differences and similarities between them and spiritual activism, most notably Bergsonism. Let us now elaborate what we can of Stebbing’s method of analysis of Bergson’s philosophy from the exposition here outlined. Stebbing starts from the principle that not only topics of thought but also how to think of them differ depending on the philosophical tradition in which one is immersed. As such, Stebbing seeks to understand the pillars of Bergson’s thought by tracing them to their wider historical tradition. She places Bergson within the French voluntarist trend, which she then looks at in depth. This she does, in part, by considering its origins which is done, in turn, through comparative analysis of the work of the father of French voluntarism and his philosophical influences. Importantly, in so doing Stebbing finds that she can directly link a pillar of thought maintained throughout the French voluntarist tradition to the lengthier philosophical tendency of anti-Cartesian rational absolutism in France. Stebbing also seeks to explain French voluntarism in general by extrapolating the particular approaches to it that form its various branches. This Stebbing does firstly through an exploration of the thought of key philosophers throughout the development of French voluntarist philosophy in relation to the thought of their influences and whom they influenced. Secondly, Stebbing compares wider philosophical debates around voluntarist trends going on in France throughout several centuries. This allows

5

U. B. Sait does point out that Bergson briefly addresses the question of truth in the introduction he wrote to the French translation of James’ “Pragmatism” (1916). However, we believe that the notion of truth was interchangeable with the notion of access to reality for Bergson.

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

135

her to find where discussions between philosophers of the tradition diverge or coincide. With this knowledge, Stebbing zones in on the more specific lines of thought from de Biran that are continuous up to Bergson and his followers along with those that have diverged from this path in various ways. She uses the former to define spiritual activism, the specific branch of French voluntarism that she aligns with Bergson’s thought while she uses the latter to define the other branches of French voluntarism.6 Additionally, Stebbing compares and contrasts bergsonism to the other branches of French voluntarism outside of spiritual activism. Although this is done for many reasons relating to the wider scope of the study of the book, one result of this analysis is that Stebbing is able to position the subtleties of Bergson’s philosophy in relation to other dialogues spurring from what she considers as the voluntarist current. The result is a better elucidation of the particularities of Bergson’s thought.7 When Stebbing looks at Bergson’s philosophy itself she performs a similar genealogical study in the same comparative fashion, at least for what she takes to be the most important and/or confusing aspects of it. To better understand certain concepts implicit in Bergson’s philosophy she looks at how they where explicitly developed by Bergson’s followers who abided by Bergson’s philosophical framework. Throughout this whole process Stebbing performs comparative analyses with other philosophers’ ideas that she finds outside of the specific terrain of French 6

Stebbing concludes the expositions in her book saying that French voluntarism “can be summed up as developing along three lines” (1914). This summary also reveals quite well the general comparative nature of her thought: (A) The main line, direct from Maine de Biran, including Ravaisson, Boutroux, Bergson, Le Roy and Wilbois, we have denominated Spiritualistic Activism by reason of its adoption of the standpoint of personal experience as fundamental and its insistence upon the predominantly active character of that experience. In its later development it tends in the direction of mysticism, and is properly an ‘Intuitionism’ akin to the German Romantic philosophy both of Schelling and Schopenhauer. While anti-intellectualistic it is also distinctly anti-pragmatic. Closely allied is the ‘philosophy of action’ of MM. Blondel and Laberthonniere. (B) A second line is that of Neo-Criticism as represented by Renouvier and his School of thought. This is a moralism derived mainly from Kant’s practical philosophy; it has some affinities with Pragmatism, but there are essential differences. (C) Thirdly, there is the ‘philosophie des idees forces, which differs on the one hand from the Intuitionism of Bergson, and on the other from the Moralism of Renouvier; it neither disparages intellect as M. Bergson does in regarding it as disqualified for the service of truth, nor does it look to moral affirmations as Renouvier does, to fill up the gaps that intellect fails to cross; it may perhaps be most -correctly described as an ‘Intellectualistic Voluntarism’. (ibid.)

7

It is however, very much doubtful that stress should be put on personal experience to define Bergson’s philosophy or, for that matter, the French tradition with which his writings were engaged. It is equally doubtful that it should be in any way aligned with French voluntarism, if indeed the tradition can be said to conceive “the ultimate nature of reality as some form of will” (see page 13). Bergson was explicitly against this (see for instance, Bergson, 1969, “Introduction partie II”).

136

I. Day

voluntarism. Evidently parallels and juxtapositions with pragmatists form a strong part of this but, quite often, more ad hoc comparisons and affiliations are made. Although many of these comparisons are done for the larger conclusions of the book (while others have less consistent purposes), they also reveal her deeply contrastive nature (see footnote 6). A note before we continue. The outline provided above is not meant to imply that Stebbing’s meticulous genealogical and comparative endeavours are consciously intended for the purpose of better understanding the overall point of view of a single philosopher. This is simply not the case. Much of Stebbing’s comparative analyses seem to be rather the result of her general way of thinking and consequently, of expositing her comprehension of philosophical works. And Stebbing’s comparative and contrastive nature make her interpretations and expositions in Pragmatism and French Voluntarism quite convoluted at times, resulting in several lines of thought, differing in importance, weaving throughout the length of the book. There is no singular intention for them. For the purpose at hand, we have extrapolated Stebbing’s analysis of Bergson’s philosophy from the rest. Having done so we simply meant to show that, regardless of the larger conscious or unconscious intentions that relate her research specifically on Bergson to the rest of the book, Stebbing’s method of analysis allowed her to better understand Bergson’s general mindset and consequently better engage with the particularities of Bergson’s philosophy. After all of these analyses, in the concluding chapter Stebbing finally weighs in. This she does in two ways. Firstly, Stebbing performs an internal critique, where she places herself within Bergson’s system and tries to find internal problems consistent with its assumptions, premises, and structure.8 Secondly, Stebbing performs a critique based on her own views; that is, from her particular analytic point of view.9 Although 8

Stebbing’s internal critiques are not perfectly devoid of personal bias; her personal views inevitably come out. An example is found on pp. 141–142 where Stebbing critique’s the consistency of Bergson’s philosophy. Bergson claims that the knowledge given by intellect on its own is merely a pseudo knowledge. Knowledge is only gotten at through intuition which is the disinterested contemplation of the intellect applied to instinct. Stebbing claims that it is inconsistent of Bergson to consider experience given by the intellect as void of reality because he later claims it to be a necessary part of experiencing whole consciousness and reality. However, there is no inconsistency if one believes that the whole is not divisible to the sum of its parts, which Bergson surely did. That duration as a whole cannot be reduced to the sum of its parts is something Jean-Louis Vieillard-Baron insightfully notes: “en alignant ‘les concepts d’unité, de multiplicité, de continuité, de visibilité finie ou infinie’, nous ne recomposerons pas la durée elle-même” (2001). 9 Comparative analysis with internal critiques and critiques based on Stebbing’s own beliefs is found throughout Pragmatism and French Voluntarism as well as in her other works. For example, in “The Method of Analysis in Metaphysics” Stebbing writes: For Descartes, however, such a charge, if it could be substantiated, * would be fatal. His initial premises must be indubitable; hence his use of methodic doubt. The purpose of his construction is fundamentally different from that of Spinoza. Although I could not accept Spinoza’s system, since it does not square with my fundamental common-sense beliefs, I should not want to reject it as a faulty system. My criticisms of Spinoza would be criticisms from without, based upon assumptions he would not have accepted and upon beliefs he did not share. To such criticisms Spinoza would rightly be impervious. He was not concerned with our commonsense beliefs; he would not have subscribed to Bradley’s dictum. Descartes

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

137

we cannot go into the details regarding Stebbing’s critiques, we do think that at this point we are justified in saying that the way Stebbing studies Bergson’s thought allows her to set up a critical discourse with Bergson’s work that engages with the original texts. Whether we agree with her analyses and criticisms or not (and for that matter her historical approach) the discussion she creates has merit because of these qualities.

9.2 Russell’s Analyses It is very much a challenging and ultimately dissatisfying endeavor to attempt to find interpretive methods in Russell’s expositions of other philosophers’ thoughts. This is because his writing does not provide examples of how he sought to understand views that differ from his own, if indeed he did at all. Instead one finds simple summaries of what Russell believed a given philosopher’s views to be, followed by a critique. The issue being that the details regarding the views Russell attributes to philosophers writing from standpoints unrelated to his own are, more often than not, inaccurate, to say the least. For instance, an almost uniform conclusion among anglophone Meinongian philosophers is that Russell failed to understand many subtle yet crucial distinctions in Meinong’s theory of objects despite Meinong being a philosopher that Russell very much respected for a time (see, among others Albertazzi et al, 2001; Findlay, 1933; Grossmann, 1974; Parsons, 1982; Routley & Routley, 1973; Smith, 1985; Suter, 1967).10 Additionally, it is often remarked that Russell’s A History of Western Philosophy hardly does justice to the philosophers discussed. H. J. Paton said, for instance, it contains “gross mis-statements of fact” and implied that Russell must not have read the originals of the philosophical works he addressed (1948). The problem is not limited to Russell’s study of continental work. Within the analytic tradition Russell also seems to have struggled with opinions that deviate from his own. His description of ordinary language philosophy is evidence of this (see Russell, 1957). The problem can even be found in analytic works in direct discussion with his philosophy. As Russell himself wrote, “I am at a loss to understand Mr. Strawson’s position on the subject of names” (Russell, 1957). on the contrary sought to vindicate in some measure the beliefs of plain men. He sought to find reasons, not to expound a vision.* Thus, whilst Descartes required a basis for knowledge, Spinoza did not. (1932) Here Stebbing analyzes and explicates Spinoza’s philosophy through comparison with Descartes’. She critiques Spinoza’s philosophy based on her own philosophical framework while acknowledging that this critique would not hinder the internal consistency of Spinoza’s system. 10 Perhaps most importantly, Russell failed to grasp Meinong’s distinction between Existence and Being. He also did not manage to properly assess Meinong’s proposal that objects that neither exist nor subsist nonetheless are in some way and that for all true propositions about objects that neither exist nor subsist, the negative correlate of those propositions are also true. Russell saw these simply as violations of the laws of excluded middle and of non-contradiction. For more on the matter see Pribram-Day (2018).

138

I. Day

Simply put, it would seem that Russell had difficulty grasping any philosophical process that was not a form of logicism close to his own. This is likely why Russell’s work reveals a tendency, not to come to understand the various ways of thinking of philosophers from other traditions, but rather to subsume their ideas under his own philosophical framework. (Paton also noticed this in Russell’s A History of Philosophy, stating “[h]e judges the past very much from the standpoint of his own doctrines (which play a very prominent part throughout)” [Paton, 1948]). As Russell’s understanding of these philosophers is incomplete, his subsequent criticism of their work often misses the point. Unfortunately, his work on Bergson does not provide a counterexample. The uninspired state of Russell’s interpretation of Bergson’s philosophy appears to have been due to a certain maladroitness on Russell’s part when it came to the analysis of philosophy from differing viewpoints. However, the possibility should not be ruled out that, aside from a general deficiency in this regard, lack of proper engagement, due in turn to indifference, played a role. Granted, due diligence to the philosophers Russell addressed, at least in A History of Western Philosophy was a point his wife, Patricia Russell was adamant on making clear. She explained she had “been a witness and at times an assistant of a very thorough re-reading,” over sixteen years of both the major philosophers and the more niche (P. Russell, 1949). And Russell’s letters from 1911 to Lady Ottoline Morrell do show that, although begrudgingly, Russell did spend time reading Bergson’s philosophy. That and his library contains much of Bergson’s writings with notes that Russell himself wrote on the pages (see Bracer record of the Bertrand Russell Archives, notably records 113434; 17432; 17460; 19014; 17463; 17466; 17465; 17468 and Russell’s library at the Bertrand Russell’s Archives). Be that as it may, Russell admitted that his dislike for Bergson’s philosophy made him consistently put off reading it (see Bracer records above). Additionally, it does not appear that he looked at any secondary writing on Bergson’s thought and focused solely on Bergson’s major works that, evidently, Bergson himself wrote. This means that Russell likely took no extra effort to better come to terms with concepts in Bergson’s philosophy that he struggled with, nor to better understand where Bergson was generally coming from. Consequently, Russell’s inability to properly analyse Bergson’s thought seems to be due, at least in part, to a lack of thorough engagement spurring from indifference (really one should say dislike) toward Bergson’s philosophy. In either case, we have seen neither ineptitude nor lack of engagement intervene in Stebbing’s study of Bergson. Let us now look at some key differences in the ways Stebbing and Russell perceived Bergson’s philosophy.

9.3 A Comparison of Stebbing and Russell on Bergson At this point, we are interested in looking at the differences in Stebbing and Russell’s comprehension of pillars of Bergson’s thought as exemplary of their wider tendencies when addressing continental philosophy. As such we will not delve into the details

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

139

of Russell and Stebbing’s critiques of Bergson’s philosophy nor will we get into most of the details of how they each understood its content. This would require too much explanation of the minutiae of Bergson’s notions of space and time. It would also require a lengthy account of how Russell (and even Stebbing for that matter) misconstrued them. This we do not have time for nor is it needed as Karin Costelloe has already succinctly provided an overview of why Russell’s study of Bergson’s notion of space and time are mishandled, and why his ensuing critiques of Bergson fail to actually critique Bergson’s philosophy. Aside from some minor points of dispute we hold this critique to be very accurate.11 We refer the reader to her “An Answer to Mr. Bertrand Russell’s Article on the Philosophy of Bergson” (see Petrov, 2013 for further critiques of Russell’s interpretation of Bergson). We can concern ourselves here with more general matters to better focus on the variations between Russell and Stebbing’s approach. A comparison of how Russell and Stebbing classify the work of a particular thinker such as Bergson will serve well to exemplify the difference in their methods of analysis of other traditions.

9.3.1 Classification of Bergson’s Philosophy In the opening paragraph of Russell’s essay “The philosophy of Bergson”, he explains what is for him a precise classificatory method of philosophy: “The classification of philosophies is effected, as a rule, either by their methods or by their results: ‘empirical’ and ‘a priori’ is a classification by methods, ‘realist’ and ‘idealist’ is a classification by results. An attempt to classify Bergson’s philosophy in either of these ways is hardly likely to be successful, since it cuts across all the recognized divisions” (Russell, 1912).

11

Costello considers Russell in the right when he critiques Bergson’s definition of past and present as question begging (see Costelloe, 1914, 152). We do not agree on this point (see section on argumentation below). We also disagree with a subtlety in Costello’s exposition of Bergson’s concept of space. She does not sufficiently address the distinction in Bergson’s philosophy between the notion of space developed from the intellect and concepts developed from the latent spatiality of the intellect. The latter should not be considered in literal space, but rather as concepts that have roots in our spatial experience. Russell did not grasp the gradation of the spatial in Bergson’s philosophy and the consequent distance between Bergson’s concept of the experience of space and his concept of the spatialization of thought. This, we believe, is part of what led Russell to misinterpret Bergson’s discussion of abstract objects, numbers in particular, and Zeno’s arrow. It is also apparent in Russell’s reduction of the nuances of Bergson’s notion of spatial experience, the spatialization of concepts, and his use of visual metaphors to the mere results of a highly visual thinker. Although Costelloe does mention that spatiality is not equivalent to space for Bergson and that Russell conflates the two Costelloe does not mention how this affected Russell’s aforementioned interpretations of Bergson’s philosophy. This lack of depth, although unsatisfying for a proper exposition, is to be expected within the limited space of Costelloe’s published response to Russell’s article. Regardless it is not of real consequence to her general layout of Bergson’s philosophy nor to her critique of Russell’s reading of it.

140

I. Day

We will set aside the doubts that Russell’s classificatory rule for philosophy evokes (although we might justifiably wonder whether Russell did not choose a fairly arbitrary measure as a means to classify occidental philosophy. We may equally wonder whether he thought such a rule applies across occidental philosophy due to it applying fairly well to the philosophy Russell was in direct discussion with: logicism, logical positivism and the currents of British idealism-realism). We will simply note that to venture to classify a philosopher such as Bergson with this rule does indeed lead to disappointing ends. Russell notes this difficulty but misinterprets its origin. Instead of questioning his classificatory system, Russell chalks the problem up to Bergson’s philosophy being so odd that it does not manage to fit within any typically recognised philosophical school. The question then arises as to how knowledgeable Russell was of the centuries-long philosophical debates in which Bergson was immersed in order to conclude that he “cuts across all recognised divisions”. In contrast to this, Stebbing writes, “just as the slow slipping of the loosened surface beneath a tilted rock causes it to rush down into the valley below if but a single stone be removed, so the slow accumulation of ideas results in the gradual formation of a new way of looking at the whole and transforms it suddenly and completely. To account for the fall of the rock we must take into consideration the whole process of gradual movement: to account for the transformation of a whole realm of thought we must look back to the current from which it proceeds” and “[i]n the philosophy of creative evolution we see the continuation of the current of French thought that proceeds from Maine de Biran through Ravaisson and Boutroux. It would perhaps be hardly necessary to point out this—for no philosopher springs from the void—were it not that, to the English-speaking world at least, Bergson’s views came with such force of novelty that he seemed to have no roots in the past” (1914). The first quote summarises the point of our exposé in Sect. 9.1: that Stebbing sought to understand Bergson’s work by tracing it to the wider traditions it was influenced by and was a part of. This she achieved through lengthy research and comparative analysis of several philosophers across many centuries. We will not go over the details again but simply recall that these tactics allowed Stebbing to position Bergson’s philosophy within spiritual activism. This is the lineage of thought she traces in the second quote above. Spiritual activism, as Stebbing explains, is a specific branch of the French voluntarists tradition, which in turn can be aligned with voluntarism in general and to anti-intellectualism spurring from anti-Cartesianism. It seems fair to say that, thus far, Stebbing’s methods result in a much more satisfying classification of Bergson’s thought within occidental philosophy in general than does Russell’s rule of classification.

9.3.2 Practical Philosophy and Bergson Russell proceeds to categorise Bergson’s philosophy with what he says is a less precise classificatory system, but more effective for Bergson’s work. He aligns it with pragmatism under the heading of practical philosophy: “Practical philosophies

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

141

have been rare until recent times, in fact their chief representatives are the pragmatists and M. Bergson” (Russell, 1912). In contrast, it is precisely a principal intention of Stebbing’s Pragmatism and French Voluntarism to explain that to conflate Bergson’s philosophy with pragmatism is a misstep. She writes: “While the pragmatist looks outward for the effects of theory on conduct, while he seeks what practical difference a given theory may make to us as social beings bound together by interest, love and action, Bergson looks downward to penetrate the reality that flows beneath the activities of daily life, and turns away from man as social being to man as individual, and from the standpoint of the real, he deplores the rare, and never complete, achievement of pure individuality. This difference in outlook is fundamental” (Stebbing, 1914). Bergson’s philosophy is not concerned with the common nor with the social realm and so cannot be considered practical in nature. To the contrary, Bergson, by and large, looks down on the practical as that by we have spurned reality and sees everyday thought as a result of this. Bergson’s philosophy is concerned with the experience of reality achieved solely through personal speculation of the immediate but buried feeling of instinct; consciousness turned toward itself, or individuality as Stebbing interprets it.12 This is in direct contradiction with the pragmatist’s interests. But the experience of the real achieved through deep personal and inward reflection is hardly original to Bergson. It has rather a long lineage in the French tradition, one that Stebbing took notice of. As mentioned, she defines French voluntarism as the “tendency to conceive the ultimate nature of reality as some form of will [and] the psychological fact of the immediate consciousness” (Stebbing, 1914). Due to Stebbing’s thorough historical research, she was able to more aptly align Bergson’s philosophy with philosophical thought with which it shares something in common, more precisely, was in discussion with—regardless of the specific writers that Bergson had in mind within this lengthy exchange. Stebbing called this conversation French voluntarism which—excluding perhaps a few notable exceptions of particular philosophers therein (see footnote 6)—she markedly distinguished from the philosophical framework of pragmatism. This distinction, unfortunately, is lost on Russell. Admittedly, such a conflation, which was propounded by Schiller, probably contributed to Russell’s confusion of Bergson’s philosophy with pragmatism. But there are, nonetheless, certain misinterpretations of Bergson’s philosophy that seem to indicate other reasons why Russell drew this faulty conclusion. Russell wrote that “practical philosophies […] regard action as the supreme good” (1912). This seems to imply that Russell conflated the pragmatist’s call to activity with Bergson’s stance that, in order to experience one’s whole consciousness and consequently reality, one must seek the experience of life as that which is fundamentally active, in motion and unpredictable, as opposed to inert and deterministic. The other more fundamental error concerning Bergson’s relation to pragmatism, and consequently that 12

Stebbing’s interpretation of the importance of individuality is very questionable, especially regarding Bergson’s writings after Essai sur les données immédiates de la conscience. It is not an individuality that Bergson is in pursuit of, but rather a search for one’s instinct that rejoins each individual to life itself–to the entirety of reality–which goes far beyond the individual.

142

I. Day

with which we are concerned here, is Russell’s misinterpretation that Bergson’s antiintellectualism is analogizable to American pragmatism’s rejection of intellectual endeavours seen as separated from active ongoing engagement with the world. We will now clarify this.

9.3.3 Anti-Intellectualism A bit of context will be needed to explain Bergson’s stance on the intellect. For the purpose at hand, we will solely discuss the intellect’s usefulness in experiencing reality insofar as intuition is concerned. Bergson believed that reality can be found as a vague sentiment hidden deep within us (see Bergson, 1940, 179). This experience is accessible solely by means of intuition. Intuition is an evolved form of instinct. On the one hand, it is instinctual activity, and so, direct action in the world; it is life itself which can only be felt. On the other hand, it is an experience that can only be reached through the intellect’s disinterested reflection. In regards to this, Bergson states, “[t]here are things that only the intellect is capable of searching for but can never find on its own. The instinct alone could find these things, but it will never search for them” and “in reality, they go together because they complete each other and they complete each other because they are different. […] The reader will not be surprised that we insist on this point. We hold it to be of capital importance” (1940 our translation). Bergson’s anti-intellectualism comes from his belief that instinct has been ignored due to a practical inclination in everyday life that has evolved into the dominance of pure intellect (or reason) in philosophy and the sciences. The problem, specifically, for Bergson, is that because of this we have lost touch with reality. The intellect alone cannot provide us with reality because it has evolved out of our inherent interest in the practical. As such it conceptually falsifies our experience of reality the true nature of which is not organised based on practical human needs.13 This is why “Bergson tells us to give up trying to get knowledge of reality by way of conceptual thought, and make instead the great effort which pure intuition demands, not because he despises pure speculation but just because he prizes it so highly” (Costelloe, 1914). Bergson seeks to bring us back to reality specifically through disinterested reflection applied to instinct that together form intuition which is, more precisely, the intuition of reality and the experience of life itself. But this must be done, according to him, by moving away from the practical and so, from the purely intellectual faculty. Bergson is not against the intellect full stop. It is rather a pure intellectualism Bergson is against.14 13

From L’Evolution créatrice onward this falsification is due to the intellect, which conforms to one trend of reality, projecting itself onto reality as a whole. This differs to his earlier writings which see this falsification as a distortion of all reality. 14 For our purposes here, we have only discussed the first step of Bergson’s notion of intuition and intellect. But there is no pure faculty for Bergson, there is always a barrier between them that can be muddled (see Worms, 2001 for an illuminative account of this).

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

143

Russell however construes Bergson’s theory as one that creates a total dichotomy between intuition and intellect. He subsequently takes Bergson to be simply antiintellectual in the sense that he is against speculation. He writes “[t]here is no room in this philosophy for the moment of contemplative insight” (1912). This is what led Russell to conclude that the main object of Bergson’s philosophy is “to show that nothing can be learned by patience and detailed thinking, but that we ought rather to worship the prejudices of the ignorant under the title of […] ‘intuition” (ibid.).15 There is the possibility that Russell here hoped to convey that Bergson believed what lies hidden deep within the true essence of man, to be accessed only by those that have learned to disinterestedly search for what our instinct actively reveals, are the “prejudices of the ignorant” as Russell puts it. Otherwise, he failed to properly grasp Bergson’s notion of intuition and therefore his stance on intellectual speculation. Contrary to this, Stebbing sums up Bergson’s notion of intuition as follows: “M. Bergson, speaking of the forms of consciousness, other than intellect, which have been developed in the evolutionary process, suggests that “in bringing these forms together, in making them fuse with intellect, should we not obtain then a consciousness as wide as life?” (Stebbing, 1914). And elsewhere “Bergson sums up that philosophy which, address[es] itself “to feeling as much as to reason” (ibid.). Briefly put, Stebbing understands that the intellect’s ability for pure disinterested contemplation is essential to Bergson’s philosophy. She understands that Bergson is not an anti-intellectualist in the sense that Russell purports him to be. Rather because of her understanding of the tradition Bergson is working with, Stebbing more adequately explains Bergson’s anti-intellectualism as an anti-rational absolutism. As mentioned in Sect. 9.1, she traces this form of anti-intellectualism back to de Biran and Malebranche’s original fights against Descartes’ all-encompassing rationalism. She explains it as a “revolt against excessive intellectualism” (Stebbing, 1914, my emphasis). To say the intellect is not the sole faculty needed to understand reality is not to condemn it purely and simply. This line of thought, of which Bergson is a part, urges rather, in various ways and degrees, that knowledge cannot be achieved by purely rational means.

9.3.4 Style Having looked at how Stebbing and Russell connect Bergson’s thought to wider philosophical tendencies, and in relation to this, Bergson’s stance on reason, we can move on to another pillar of Bergson’s philosophy: artistic style. Style is an important aspect to look at because it plays a key role in many philosophical traditions.16 It 15

This misstep comes as all the more surprising considering Russell cites part of Bergson’s explanation of the result of bringing the intellect and instinct together: “By ‘intuition’ he says, I mean instinct that has become disinterested, self conscious, capable of reflecting upon its object and of enlarging it indefinitely” (Russell, 1912). 16 The French traditions often used it as a way to avoid the traps of everyday thought or of excessive rationalism that perpetuates an academic writing style. The German romanticists of the eighteenth

144

I. Day

follows that how Stebbing and Russell understood its use in Bergson’s philosophy is indicative of their ability to grasp philosophical tools utilised in thought-systems outside of their own (it is also indicative of their insight that the traditional occidental academic style was simply a style). Again, some context is now required. Bergson intended his philosophy to allow his readers the opportunity to tap into their intuition which requires that a vague sentiment be felt. To have one grasp what instinct shows, intellect is required, therefore, ideas that evoke such an intuition must be grasped in order for the intellect to search for it. For this language is needed, as language has evolved to become the fundamental tool and expression of the intellect and therefore of ideas. But it is also precisely because of this that Bergson believed language to reiterate the pure intellect’s world view. That is, language typically only expresses and even enhances the purely intellectual view which is a falsification of experience (see Bergson, 1924, chapter 3). Accordingly, to express intuition properly, a new language must be devised; a language of intuition. This is a language that evolves past the typical expression of the world abstracted from the pure intellect. Bergson in explaining how this language would work, writes, “no image can replace the intuition […] but many diverse images borrowed from orders of very different things, by the convergence of their action, can direct consciousness to the precise point where there is a certain intuition to grasp” (Bergson, 1969 our translation).17 This language that directs consciousness toward intuition is the ideal ‘parole’ of the philosopher. The philosopher’s discourse is for Bergson meant to fluidify thought, allowing thought to marry sensual life, as B. Mabille puts it (2001).18 In order for Bergson’s discourse to fluidify thought, to direct consciousness to intuition, Bergson sought recourse to art. According to Bergson the creation of art is the purest manifestation of the activity of instinct. Art that is the manifestation of the activity of instinct’s evolved form, intuition, is what Bergson calls disinterested art, specifically because it requires pure speculation (see Bergson, 1940, 45). Disinterested art then, both made and experienced, is in its essence the intuition at work (see Bergson, 1940, 178–179). The ideal word of the philosopher is of the same essence: it is incited by the intuition and orients those who properly experience it toward intuition. Bergson’s philosophy is, to borrow the expression from Bergson, “a pursuit oriented in the same direction as art [but that has] life in general as its object” (Bergson, 1940). This is precisely why Bergson’s philosophy is expressed in such a literary and poetic manner. Bergson intentionally and meticulously uses artistic device to incite the vague sentiment of intuition; to move away from the everyday snares of a language built solely on reason that merely reinforces the false experience of reality. An appeal to an artistic form is necessary for the proper expression century from Hegel to Hamann are other examples, as well as philosophers such as Nietzsche and Heidegger. 17 Here image is meant as a spatial and consequently an intellectual representation of the world. 18 Mabille gives a profound and illuminating account of language in Bergson’s philosophy, one we have not at all done justice to here. For a much more detailed account of language according to Bergson, we refer the reader to Mabille (2001).

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

145

and consequent incitation of the intuition according to Bergson. Bergson’s philosophy calls for an artistic method, to do otherwise would be to contradict that very philosophy. Be that as it may Russell, while likening Bergson’s writing to Shakespeare’s, describes it as an “imaginative picture of the world, regarded as a poetic effort [that] is, in the main not capable of either proof or disproof” and says of Bergson specifically: “as a rule he does not give reasons for his opinions, but relies on their inherent attractiveness, and on the charm of an excellent style” (1912). Essentially, Russell explains Bergson’s writing style in two interconnected ways. Firstly, Russell proposes that the purpose of Bergson’s artistic style is to capture an audience and to distract from a discourse that is otherwise largely lacking in substantive argument. Not an uncommon critique in philosophy, this is typically what is meant when a philosopher is accused of sophistry. Secondly, he considers Bergson’s stylised form an act of art that should be distinguished from philosophy: “an imaginative epic, to be judged on esthetic rather than on intellectual grounds” (ibid.). Russell takes for granted that there is a clear distinction to be made between rational argumentation as intellectual, and artistic portrayal as aesthetic. That is, that philosophy, because it uses rational argumentation, merits being considered a study of reality, whereas art, precisely because it gives no justification and cannot be proven nor disproven, can solely be considered an aesthetic effort. Consequently, Russell seemed to believe that he could draw a clear line between Bergson’s philosophical doctrines and his “imaginative and poetic view of the world” (ibid.) i.e., the artistic expression therein. Because he also thought he could reveal the logical holes in Bergson’s philosophical doctrines, he believed he could successfully claim them not to be adequate philosophy, leaving only Bergson’s artistry intact. This is what allowed him to imply that Bergson is not in fact a philosopher but an artist (in a disparaging sense) and to claim that his work should be considered likewise; not as philosophy but solely as a ‘poetic effort’. In neither case does Russell make the connection that artistic expression is the form Bergson’s ideas must take in accordance with those very ideas. Bergson’s style cannot be taken as a simple add on to his doctrines, rather style is what grounds them. Far from being a sophistical tool used to distract from a lack of rational argumentation, his artistry is meant to be an alternative methodology to rational argumentation with wholly different philosophical bearings. Simply put, what Bergson writes cannot be distilled from how it is written. Unsurprisingly, Stebbing does manage to grasp that Bergson’s philosophy requires such artistic writing, stating: “it is not by chance that M. Bergson expresses himself by metaphor piled on metaphor. He is forced by the necessity of his method to suggest by metaphor what escapes the limits of clear thought. His metaphors are not mere superfluous adornment, tricks of oratory, but a vital part of his philosophy” (1914).

146

I. Day

9.3.5 Argumentation We have explained Bergson’s use of style as he saw it as methodological, intrinsically linked to the apprehension of what is therein expressed or, what is more to did, not to be distinguished from it. In so doing our discussion alluded more than once to the notion of argumentation. The question of argumentation in Bergson’s philosophy is important both as an indicator of Stebbing and Russell’s comprehension of Bergson’s methods but also, as in the case of style, indicative of how Stebbing and Russell were ready to address different methods across traditions. Let us end the discussion then with argumentation. Some reminders might be needed. Bergson’s philosophy endeavours to intermediately incite the fleeting experience of reality. Reality is experienced by means of intuition, or rather intuition is a part of reality that spans past the intellect’s grasp. Accordingly, Bergson’s philosophy does not seek to define itself within the confines of logically sound arguments according to the rules of classical argumentation. Bergson’s is rather a philosophy that “looks for a rigueur distrustful of all logical organisation” (Mabille, 2001). Stebbing explains this of intuitionism in general, stating “an immediate intuition is a belief which the believer cannot justify, or at any rate has not yet justified, by rational grounds”. And of Bergson’s philosophy in particular, “it is, therefore […] futile either to argue with M. Bergson or to seek arguments that support his position. He uses no argument; he states his views with eloquence and supports them with metaphors, but he offers no loophole for discussion. The philosophy of creative evolution is indemonstrable, and he does not seek to demonstrate it” (1914). Unfortunately, Stebbing’s views here seem to rely on the premise that traditional rational laws are the sole means by which demonstration and discussion can be had, which seems to have led her to conclude that there is no room for argument or debate in Bergson’s philosophy. This ignores the fact that Bergson accused rationalistic enterprises of the same problems; that he saw his philosophy as proposing a solution to an otherwise closed and indemonstable rationalist system—one that allows for creative discussion amongst philosophers and whose essence is to be constantly completed and perfected while never being either;—that he explicitly stated indemonstrability to be reason enough to abandon a philosophical doctrine; and that he gave explicit proposals of what such an alternative philosophy would explore.19 Stebbing seems to have come too quickly to a judgement without seeing where her critique could have been countered. Be that as it may, for our purpose we can simply state that it suffices that Stebbing is correct insofar as Bergson did not seek to demonstrate his 19

For a critique of intellectualism see Bergson (1940, 192–193) where he states that these philosophies, because they are complete systems, cannot be argued with and must be taken or left as is; see p. 244 where Bergson judges that philosophy need be demonstrable in actual experience; see again pp. 192–193 where he claims that his philosophy is a constructive alternative that engages other philosophers in discussion; and see pp. 208 and 226 for his proposed alternative subjects of philosophical discussion such as genealogy and actual experience.

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

147

philosophy within the framework of classical rational argumentation. Consequently, it does not seek to be demonstrated nor justified by rational grounds. In other words, Stebbing understood that a primary consideration when judging Bergson’s thought is that to critique it by means of logical fallacy is beside the point. Russell however, recurrently critiques the internal consistency of Bergson’s philosophy by means of rational argumentation, particularly, in accordance with the laws of classical logic (see Costelloe, 1914 for a thorough explanation of what Russell seeks to disprove). We here provide two examples: “What is meant by saying ‘the past is essentially that which acts no longer’ except that the past is that of which the action is past? The words ‘no longer’ are words expressive of the past. Thus his definition is circular. What he says is, in effect, ‘the past is that of which the action is in the past.’ As a definition, this cannot be regarded as a happy effort” (1912). Costelloe explains why this argument is not in keeping with the original ideas expressed (see Costelloe, 1914). We would like to add that, to say Bergson’s definition reveals circularity is to accuse Bergson’s philosophy of unsuccessfully applying two things it seeks to avoid: clearly delineated definitions and a mindset that adheres to logical laws enough to be able to speak of question begging in a meaningful way. To try to take from Bergson’s philosophy a clearly delineated definition would be, in Bergsonist terms, to attempt to understand intuited reality by means of the pure intellect. Or as Bergson himself writes, “a perfect definition only applies to a made reality” (Bergson, 1940). To extrapolate a clear definition from one of Bergson’s explanations is to fail to grasp what Bergson’s philosophy explains. To then accuse a definition in Bergson’s philosophy of circularity (an effort that is already null considering any definition would be wrongfully read into his thought), is to assume that circularity is a concept that can be made sense of in his work. More precisely, that Bergson’s explanations conform to rational argumentation to the extent that it makes sense to speak of them as circular or not. Rational laws and violations thereof, such as question begging and lack of clarity of the kind Russell addresses, arise only when the world is seen through a “rational” lens. These laws cannot be made sense of in the reality of pure transition and becoming that Bergson espouses. As Bergson states, if he were to set up his ideas in a rational way “we [would] obtain an artificial imitation of interior life; a static equivalent that lends itself better to the demands of logic” (ibid.), thus falling back onto a system he wants to be rid of.20 One can critique the internal consistency of Bergson’s ideas based on 20

A more pertinent critique of the internal consistency of Bergson’s philosophy, for lack of a better turn of phrase, might be to ask whether Bergson successfully kept rational argumentation out of his explanations of reality. The answer to which we believe is negative. It follows that one could ask whether this does not show some failure on his part to completely avoid a philosophy of reason. See, for instance, Bergson (1940, 255–256) where he discusses contingent and necessary aspects of reality, reminiscent of Kant’s a priori and a posteriori, preluding modal logic). One could equally ask whether he himself did not seek to avoid circular argumentation (Bergson often held this kind of argument against other philosophers) by creating his system, and in so doing, conform to a law of logic. However, due to Bergson’s complex views on intelligence and its usefulness both in accessing intuition and mimicking and therefore displaying the downward path of matter, it is difficult to say whether his philosophy need be entirely devoid of reason.

148

I. Day

argumentative clarity and circularity only when one ignores what those ideas seek to express. A similar problem is found again when Russell summarizes an example given by Bergson of the artifice of intellectual experience: “When we hear the steps of a passer-by in the street, he says, we visualize his successive positions; when we hear the strokes of a bell, we either picture it swinging backwards and forwards, or we range the successive sounds in an ideal space […] There is no logical necessity to range the strokes of a clock in an imaginary space. Most people, I imagine, count them without any spatial auxiliary. Yet no reason is alleged by Bergson for the view that space is necessary” (Russell, 1912). Bergson meant these as examples of practical but non-intuitive experience that he explicitly condemns and proposes an alternative to. Russell takes these examples to be necessary within this realm of experience. Russell then points out that this kind of experience is not logically necessary and that Bergson has not justified the claim for such logical necessity. Both these comments are perhaps true, but they do not address what was actually being said. In other words, Russell misinterprets something in Bergson’s philosophy as espousing the notion of necessity and then critiques it on failing to properly support its logical claims. Bergson’s philosophy seeks to incite the intuition and release its readers from the illusion of practical experience fostered by reason. An odd way indeed to go about this would be to posit the logical necessity of a given practical experience and then seek to rationally justify this claim. To summarise, Bergson did not want his philosophy to function within the realm of reason’s classical laws. To assume it must nevertheless do so in order to be coherent is to fail to understand Bergson’s philosophy. Yet Russell continued to push Bergson’s philosophy into a logical framework and critique the justifiability of what Bergson wrote through said framework. In the words of Stebbing, to these endeavours: “Bergson would undoubtedly reply that to attempt so to justify intuition by rational grounds would be to degrade it and detract from its original purity” (1914). ∗ ∗ ∗ It is not clear why Russell thought, despite his belief that Bergson’s philosophy largely cannot be proven nor disproven and that it is purportedly against all intellectual speculation, it should nevertheless adhere to reason’s laws. However, as conjectured in Sect. 9.2, this is likely due to Russell’s wider tendency when analyzing other philosophers’ works. When Russell acknowledged that a given philosopher’s perspective was different from his own, he couldn’t understand it or at least decided only to understand it through his own framework. The consistent result was lack of proper engagement with the original texts along with a highly distorted interpretation of them. The consequent critiques are then nihil ad rem. We have here used Russell’s study on Bergson as an example of this wider tendency in his work on continental thought. As we have aimed to show, if looking for a view on continental philosophy from a quintessential, influential and early figure of the analytic tradition, where that

9 Stebbing and Russell on Bergson: Early Analytics on Continental Thought

149

view also manages to engage with said philosophy, Susan Stebbing’s work is a far superior alternative to that of Bertrand Russell. We will end with a short note to clarify a possible doubt. By highlighting Stebbing’s complex system, it was not the intention to claim that each and every philosopher who would like to dip their toe in philosophy outside of their tradition must go into as great a depth as Stebbing does in her analysis of Bergson. Stebbing herself often did not do as much. Nor was the intention here to claim that Stebbing’s methods are flawless. Stebbing does err; she, like everyone, inevitably made mistakes and her interpretations remain very much from an analytic perspective and as such, are still slanted. But, to recall, this inclination was a crucial factor in choosing Stebbing’s work. The goal here was rather to note that Stebbing’s analyses mark a moment of engaged analytic interpretation and consequent critique of continental thought and that this is the case because Stebbing went through many pains to place herself within the mindset of philosophers working outside of her own philosophical framework before making an assessment of their work. Because this is unfortunately uncommon in the analytic tradition there is all the more reason to look toward Stebbing as an example of how to approach ways of thinking that differ from those that may seem intuitive or habitual to us.

Bibliography Albertazzi, L., Jacqette, D., & Poli, R. (2001). Meinong in his and our times. In L. Albertazzi, D. Jacqette, & R. Poli (Eds.), The school of Alexius Meinong (pp. 3–48). Ashgate Publishing. Beaney, M. (2016). Susan Stebbing and the early reception of logical empiricism in Britain. In C. Dambock (Ed.), Influences on the Aufbau (pp. 233–256). Springer International Publishing Switzerland. Bergson, H. (1924). Le rire: essai sur la signification du comique. Editions Alcan. Bergson, H. (1932). Les deux sources de la morale et la religion. Les Presses Universitaires de France. Bergson, H. (1940). l’Evolution créatrice (52e édition). Presses Universitaires de France. Bergson, H. (1969). La pensée et le mouvant: essais et conférences. Presses Universitaires de France. Bergson, H. (1970). Essai sur les données immédiates de la conscience. 144e. Presses Universitaires de France. Chapman, S. (2018). Susan Stebbing: Early analytic philosophy and present-day linguistics. In Society of Women in Philosophy Ireland Conference, Dublin Costelloe, K. (1914). An answer to Mr. Bertrand Russell’s article on the philosophy of Bergson. The Monist, 24(1), 145–155. Retrieved April 18 2020 from www.jstor.org/stable/27900478 Derrida, J. (1977). Signature event context. Glyph, 1, 172–197. Derrida, J. (1990). Limited Inc. Galilée. Findlay, J. N. (1933). Meinong’s theory of objects. Oxford University Press. Grossmann, R. (1974). Meinong. Routledge & Kegan Paul. Mabille, B. (2001). Éloges de la fluidité: Hegel, Bergson et la parole. Les Études philosophiques, 59(4), 499–516. https://doi.org/10.3917/leph.014.0499 Parsons, T. (1982). Are there nonexistent objects? American Philosophical Quarterly, 19(12), 365– 371. Paton, H. J. (1948). International Affairs (Royal Institute of International Affairs 1944), 24(4), 566–567. https://doi.org/10.2307/3017617

150

I. Day

Pribram-Day, I. (2018). Meinong’s multifarious being and Russell’s ontological variable: Being in two object theories across traditions at the turn of the 20th century. Open Philosophy, 1(1), 310–326. https://doi.org/10.1515/opphil-2018-0023 Petrov, V. (2013). Bertrand Russell’s criticism of Bergson’s views about continuity and discreteness. Filozofia, 68(10), 890–904. Routley, R., & Routley, V. (1973). Rehabilitating Meinong’s theory of objects. Revue Internationale de Philosophie, 27(104–105), 224–254. Russell, P. (1949). History of western philosophy. International Affairs: Correspondence, 25(2), 247–248.https://doi.org/10.2307/3017617 Russell, B. (1911). Documents 113434; 17432; 17460; 19014; 17463; 17466; 17465; 17468. Bracers correspondence, Bertrand Russell Archives. Retrieved April 18 2020 from http:// bracers.mcmaster.ca/bracers-basic-search?search_api_views_fulltext_3=bergson&search_api_ views_fulltext_4=&search_api_views_fulltext_1=&search_api_views_fulltext_2=&search_ api_views_fulltext=&search_api_views_fulltext_6=&sort_by=search_api_aggregation_2& sort_order=ASC Russell, B. (1912). The philosophy of Bergson. The Monist, 22(3), 321–347. Retrieved April 18 2020 from www.jstor.org/stable/27900381 Russell, B. (1957). Mr. Strawson ‘on referring’. Mind, 66(263), 385–389. https://doi.org/10.1093/ mind/LXVI.263.385 Sait, U. (1916). The Journal of Philosophy, Psychology and Scientific Methods, 13(8), 219–221. https://doi.org/10.2307/2012921 Searle, J. (1977). Reiterating the differences: A reply to Derrida. Glyph, 1(198), 208. Smith, J. F. (1985). The Russell-Meinong debate. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 45(3), 305–350. Stebbing, S. (1914). Pragmatism and French voluntarism. Cambridge University Press. Stebbing, S. (1930). A modern introduction to logic. Methuen Publishing. Stebbing, S. (1932). The method of analysis in metaphysics. Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 33, 65–94. Retrieved April 18 2020 from www.jstor.org/stable/4544216 Stebbing, S. (1939). Thinking to some purpose. Allen Lane Penguin Books. Suter, R. (1967). Russell’s refutation of Meinong in ‘on denoting’. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 27(4), 512–516. Vieillard-Baron, J. L. (2001). Les paradoxes de l’éternité chez Hegel et chez Bergson. Les Études philosophiques, 59(4), 517–530. https://doi.org/10.3917/leph.014.0517 Worms, F. (2001). L’intelligence gagné par l’intuition? la relation entre Bergson et Kant. Les Études philosophiques, 59(4), 453–464.https://doi.org/10.3917/leph.014.0453.

Ivory Day received an MA in philosophy from King’s College London and continued her studies in philosophy at a doctoral level under the direction of Jocelyn Benoist at l’Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris, France. She has given undergraduate classes at Panthéon-Sorbonne since 2018. In addition to publishing on the work of Russell, Meinong, Stebbing and Bergson, she has presented her research at conferences in cities such as Dublin, Paris, Madrid, Lisbon, Athens, Prague, Naples, Jerusalem, among others. Ivory Day has an artistic practice alongside her career in philosophy. After receiving a BFA from Emily Carr University, she went on to teach San Carlos, la UNAM and to exhibit her art internationally in galleries and museums in Mexico City, Los Angeles, New York, Vancouver, Paris, etc., and to publish her art in both books and magazines.

Chapter 10

A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics: Teaching Émilie Du Châtelet’s, Luise Lange and Grete Hermann Andrea Reichenberger

Abstract Today, there is a large consensus in science, politics and society about the relevance and necessity for advancing gender equality. Despite increased measures and initiatives for gender-appropriate research and teaching and for funding programs, women are still strongly underrepresented in science. The number of women in philosophy of science is conspicuously low. While gender and diversity issues are at the top of the agenda in other sciences, disciplines, and scientific cultures, and gender research has long since found its way into practice, there is a considerable research deficit in philosophy of science vis-à-vis such approaches, apart from a few critical voices from feminist science studies. The aim of this chapter is to provide guidance on how to make women’s participation in research visible from a historical, constructive, and systematic point of view by using selected examples from philosophy and history of physics.

10.1 Introduction There is broad agreement worldwide that gender equality is a fundamental right, an internationally agreed upon sustainable development goal, and an essential feature of stable and transparent democracies. Accordingly, one main goal is to discover, explore and eliminate gender stereotypes. Some of these stereotypes are astonishingly persistent, so in philosophy and its teaching practice. This concerns both the public perception of philosophy and its academic practice—despite many efforts to overcome the hagiographies of ingenious white male thinkers. Women are still underrepresented in philosophy’s teaching practice and research. The same holds for physics. A. Reichenberger (B) University of Siegen, Siegen, Germany © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_10

151

152

A. Reichenberger

It is of utmost importance to show, especially to younger generations, the impact of female researchers to the history of philosophy and science. Education is a catalyst for social change and a pathway towards gender equality. We cannot advocate for gender-equality and at the same time exclude female thinkers from history. This would be a self-contradictory attitude. Further, it would be acting against all sustainability standards. The historiography of science, which analyzes scientific knowledge production in its many social implications as well as its epistemological and educational presuppositions, plays an important role here and bears a significant responsibility to integrate women’s contributions into the philosophy and history of science. The importance of this task is not up for discussion. But many experts don’t know how to integrate female thinkers into their own research fields. This chapter presents a simple model that anyone can use in order to integrate women philosophers and scientists into a critical teaching practice. This model will be exemplified by using three case studies. These case studies belong to the philosophy of physics. In principle, the model is transferable. The first example refers to the discussion on the meaning and status of Newton’s laws of motions. It integrates Émilie Du Châtelet’s own formulation of Newton’s axioms. The second example is about the clock (twin) paradox in relativity theory. It focuses on Luise Lange’s resolution. The third example concerns Grete Hermann’s commentary on hidden variables in quantum mechanics. It is not my intention to deal with these topics in their breadth and depth, but to demonstrate one way we can expose students to the contributions of women in philosophy and history of science. Let’s assume that you hold an introductory course about “History, Philosophy, and Science Education: Case Studies from Physics” for advanced students of different departments. You proceed by organizing a role play. A role play is an educational technique that helps to deepen the understanding of the complexity and interdependencies of a situation, a topic, a problem, a knowledge field, etc. It helps learners to develop critical thinking and cultural skills. A role play is best suited for an actor-centered approach, which is an important resource for a better understanding of scientific practice. Ask three students to take over the roles of a physicist, a philosopher, and a historian and to give a lesson to their colleagues. The purpose of this exercise is to provide insight into different perspectives, or styles of thought, on one and the same topic, e.g., on Newton’s axioms of motion. One might object that this task is too difficult for students. However, that depends on what one expects. Students certainly do not have the expert knowledge that professors of physics, philosophy and history possess. That’s not the point. The role play is a strategy for encouraging critical thinking, reflection, and debate on what science is and should be. Science is a human activity and a work in progress, rooted in a community that applies normative standards to practice, to theory, and to results. Every science has an historical dimension and may be seen as the development of understanding within a certain tradition. By contrast, teaching practice often presents scientific knowledge as a series of well-ordered propositions, statements, and a-historical facts, clearly separated from discipline to discipline. The division of labor and specialization lead to the fact that a physicist knows and needs to know far less about the history of her

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics …

153

subject than a historian of physics. In her field of research, philosophical questions and problems do not play a role either. It is the philosopher’s task to ask and discuss these questions. Is this really the case? In fact, the three approaches complement one another. Case studies from the history of physics are elementary tools for teaching physics. Furthermore, history teaches us not only that physics has philosophical implications, but also that physics rests on philosophical presuppositions. Returning to this point about female thinkers: The history of physics and philosophy is a brilliant example of a course of study forcing us to reexamine what is already known. Conversely, current developments in physics and philosophy motivate us to rewrite their histories. In the face of the growing awareness of the importance of gender issues in both physics and philosophy, we come to realize that women made significant contributions to science from the earliest times, although they have been often systematically marginalized. The challenge is to make this clear and to foster the students’ awareness of this problem. The following examples for possible “role plays” serve this purpose.

10.2 Example 1: Newton’s Axioms of Motion—Emilie Du Châtelet’s Formulation Question: What do Newton’s axioms mean? The physicist: The first law states that if the net force F (the vector sum of all forces acting on an object) is zero, then the velocity of the object is constant. The second law states that the force acting on an object is equal to the mass m of an object times its acceleration a. The second law is quite different to the third. It relates the net force acting on an object to the object’s mass and acceleration, whereas the third law describes pairs of forces between interacting objects, capturing the fundamental point that forces never occur in isolation. So, the third law means that all forces are interactions between different bodies (also called action-reaction law), with FA called the “action” and FB the “reaction”. Newton’s axioms of motion can be written down in the following formalized way: ∑ Axiom I:If F = 0 then a= 0 and v= constant ∑ Axiom II: F = ma Axiom III:FAB = −FBA The philosopher: If you present Newton’s axioms of motion in this way, one might interpret the first law (the law of inertia) as a corollary of the second: F = O is a special case of F = ma, i.e., F = O implies a vanishing acceleration, thus uniform motion (e.g., McCulloch, 2014, 8). But is this really the case? The second law only holds in inertial reference frames. Therefore, the first law cannot be a special case of the second law, because the first law defines what an inertial reference frame is (e.g.,

154

A. Reichenberger

O’Donnell, 2014, 17). In turn, from the first law we can define force as that which causes a change of motion or rest. The historian: The way in which Newton’s laws should be understood has been extensively discussed by historians of science, along with the relations between Newton’s own formulations and the different translations and modifications. The modern equation F = ma nowhere occurs in any edition of the Principia (see e.g., Coelho, 2007; Densmore, 1995). Newton himself did not explicitly write formulas, nor equations for his laws. Emilie Du Châtelet’s intervention: In Chapter Eleven “Of Motion and Rest in General, and of Simple Motion” of the Institutions physiques (1740/1742) Du Châtelet formulated the laws of motion as follows (Du Châtelet, 1988 [1742], § 229): The active force and the passive force of the bodies are modified by their impact according to certain laws, which can be reduced to three principles. FIRST LAW: A Body perseveres in its state, be it rest or motion, unless it is compelled to change its state of motion or rest by some cause. SECOND LAW: The changes of the motion of a body are always proportional to the moving force which acts upon it; for otherwise this change would happen without sufficient reason. THIRD LAW: The reaction is always equal to the action; for a Body could not act upon another Body, unless that other Body resisted it: thus action and reaction are always equal and opposite.1 Du Châtelet often modified this version. In her commentary (“Exposition abrégée”) on the translation of the Principia, she reformulated Newton’s laws of motion as follows (Du Châtelet, 1759, II, 13: XIII): 1. Every body perseveres in itself in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a straight line. 2. The change of motion is always proportional to the moving force, and is made in the direction of this force. 3. Action and reaction are always equal and opposite. Commentary: Today, we are able to draw a clear distinction between the change in velocity, which is directly proportional to time when acceleration is constant, and kinetic energy, which is proportional to the square of velocity. In Leibniz’s and Newton’s time “it was not at all clear on which physical effects were proportional to the change of velocity and which were proportional to the change in the square of velocity” (Hankins, 1990, 208). It is often said that the controversy could not be resolved without thermodynamics. Up until the early nineteenth century the mechanical equivalent of heat and work was unknown. Therefore, Leibniz’s law of conservation of force was surely not the law of conservation of energy, formulated in the nineteenth century. However, this is only one half of the story. In the eighteenth 1

If not otherwise noted the translations are my own. A translation different from the one proposed here can be found in Zinsser and Bour (2009, 177).

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics …

155

century, the idea of the conservation of a physical quantity, namely living force (vis viva), was correlated with the inertial state of motion. “Force” was not only understood as the cause of acceleration (external to matter), but also as the cause of uniform rectilinear motion, i.e., of inertial motion (intrinsic to matter). Against this background, Du Châtelet realized that Newton’s distinction between active and passive force was highly problematic. Newton’s active force was an external force, also called impressed force. The passive force was, for Newton, the innate force in the third definition of the Principia. Newton maintained that the inertia of a body is a force, namely an innate force of matter, which would be totally passive. In today’s teaching practice, inertial motion is interpreted as a forceless and uncaused motion. Du Châtelet’s insight was that Newton’s active impressed force, i.e., the cause of the change of a body’s motion (or rest), has to be distinguished from the Leibnizian force, i.e., the power, or capacity to act, inherent to matter, which later became known as energy (for further reading see e.g., Reichenberger, 2018a).

10.3 Example 2: The Clock Paradox: Luise Lange’s Solution Question: Consider clocks brought together in the same inertial reference frame and synchronized. What happens if one clock moves away in a spaceship and then returns? Physicist: The clock that had undergone the traveling would be found to lag behind the clock that stays put. This phenomenon is a necessary consequence of the relativity of simultaneity and time dilation. The relativity of simultaneity means that simultaneity depends on the observer’s frame of reference, i.e., whether two events occur at the same time is not absolute, but relative. The term “time dilation” is applied to the phenomenon of time passing slower for an observer who is moving relative to another observer. Thus, time dilation is a difference of elapsed time between two events as measured by observers either moving relative to each other. The formula for determining time dilation is: √ ∆t ' = γ ∆t = ∆t 1 − v 2 /c2 where ∆t is the time interval between two co-local events for an observer in some inertial frame, known as “proper time.” ∆t ' is the time interval between those same events, as measured by another observer, inertially moving with velocity v with respect to the former observer, v is the relative velocity √ between the observer and the moving clock, c is the speed of light, and γ = 1 1 − v 2 /c2 is the Lorentz factor. Thus the duration of the clock cycle of a moving clock is found to be increased: it is measured to be “running slow”. Note that for speeds below 1/10 the speed of light, Lorentz factor is approximately 1. Thus, time dilation effects are extremely small

156

A. Reichenberger

and can be safely ignored in daily life. Time dilation has been verified experimentally by precise measurements of atomic clocks flown in aircraft and satellites. Philosopher: Consider the following thought experiment, involving twins: One twin makes a journey in a rocketship, and returns home to find that the twin who remained had aged more. This is a consequence of special relativity which shows that the faster one travels, the slower time moves for them. Nevertheless, this result appears puzzling, because each twin sees the other twin as moving. So, should not each twin find the other to have aged more slowly? Because, from the perspective of the rocketship, the earth is traveling away from the ship and from the perspective of the earth, and the rocket is traveling away. In fact we know, within the standard framework of special relativity, nothing is paradoxical here: the traveling twin’s trajectory involves two different inertial frames, one for the outbound journey and one for the inbound journey, and so there is no symmetry between the spacetime paths of the twins. Historian: It is often claimed that the clock paradox, or twin paradox, dates back to Albert Einstein’s famous paper on special relativity in 1905 (Einstein, 1905). In fact, Einstein did not present a so-called paradox. He predicted that when two clocks were brought together and synchronized, and then one was moved away and brought back, the clock that had undergone the traveling would be found to be lagging behind the clock that had stayed put. In a later lecture to the Naturforschende Gesellschaft on 16 January 1911, Einstein noted that the same effect of time dilation would also apply to living organisms traveling at very high velocities (Einstein, 1911, 12): We must add that what holds true for this clock we have introduced as a simple representative of all physical progress also applies to any closed physical system. If we placed a living organism in a box [...] one could arrange that the organism, after any arbitrary lengthy flight, could be returned to its original spot in a scarcely altered condition, while corresponding organisms which had remained in their original positions had already long since given way to new generations. For the moving organism, the lengthy time of the journey was a mere instant, provided the motion took place with approximately the speed of light.

In his talk “L’evolution de l’espace et du temps” on 11 April 1911, Paul Langevin used a similar example, by describing a traveler making a trip at a Lorentz factor of γ = 100 (99.995% the speed of light). The traveler might return to Earth aged by two years, while his twin would have long since died—two hundred years having elapsed on Earth (Langevin, 1911, 48). Langevin explained the asymmetry that occurred because only the traveler underwent acceleration (in an absolute meaning). Langevin’s published lecture was widely read and become known as Langevin’s traveler. However, neither Einstein, nor Langevin saw in their thought experiments a challenge to the self-consistency of relativistic physics. As far as I know, Max von Laue was one of the first who spoke about “apparently paradox consequences” and rejected them decisively (von Laue, 1912). Using Hermann Minkowski’s spacetime diagrams, Laue went on to demonstrate that the world lines of the inertially moving bodies maximize the proper time elapsed between two events. He also wrote that the asymmetric aging is completely accounted for by the fact that the astronaut twin travels in two separate frames, while the Earth twin remains in one frame, and the

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics …

157

time of acceleration can be made arbitrarily small compared with the time of inertial motion. The significance of the paradox hinges on this crucial detail of the asymmetry of the twins. Luise Lange’s intervention: In 1927, Luise Lange published two papers on “The Clock Paradox of the Theory of Relativity” (Lange, 1927a) and “On a Misconception of the Relativity of Time” (Lange, 1927b). She demonstrated that the logical fallacy of the paradox lies in the incorrect assumption that the twins’ situations are symmetrical and interchangeable, which is indeed false (Lange, 1927a, 24): “This result is frequently spoken of as Langevin’s Paradox, but unjustly; for there is nothing self-contradictory in it, contrary as it may be to customary notions. It turned paradox only in the later development.” Commentary: In her discussion of time dilation, Luise Lange presented not only the correct solution of the clock/twin paradox. She also examined two false solutions: (i) acceleration is essential in order to explain this thought experiment; (ii) a complete solution of the paradox can just be found in the frame of general relativity. Luise Lange argued that both claims are false. Neither acceleration, nor general relativity are necessary ingredients for the resolution of the twin paradox. In the standard formulation of the twin paradox, acceleration is responsible for the asymmetric aging effect. But it is also possible to explain the scenario in another way, by switching inertial reference frames, which slows down the clock of the traveling twin. There is a difference between the trajectories of the twins: the trajectory of the traveling twin is equally divided between two different inertial frames, while the Earth-based twin stays in the same inertial frame. Another way to look at it is in terms of what are known as word lines which are the path an object follows in space-time. The shift of that of the stay-at-home twin. Max von Laue, to whom Luise Lange refers, used this argumentation in order to elaborate on Langevin’s explanation. He demonstrated that the world lines of the inertially moving bodies maximize the proper time elapsed between two events and concluded that the asymmetric aging is completely accounted for by the fact that the astronaut twin travels in two separate frames, while the Earth twin remains in one frame, and the time of acceleration can be made arbitrarily small compared with the time of inertial motion (von Laue, 1912). Thus, the resolution of the paradox can be given purely in special relativity within a flat (Minkowski) space-time. However, Luise Lange also asked: “What about the general theory?” In his “Dialog über die Einwände gegen die Relativitätstheorie” (Einstein, 1918), Einstein used gravitational time dilation to resolve the twin paradox. According to general theory of relativity, clocks low in a gravitational field run slower than clocks high in a gravitational field. Einstein invoked the equivalence principle and a homogeneous gravitational field equivalent to acceleration as the physical cause of asymmetrical time dilation. In her discussion of Einstein’s dialogue, Luise Lange made clear that the compensating gravitational time dilation is due to the difference in gravitational potential at two points in the field rather than being an effect of the accelerating motion itself. In the case of special relativity, it is the difference in the paths that results in a time dilation for the accelerated twin; analogously, in the case of general relativity, the compensating gravitational time dilation is due to the difference in gravitational

158

A. Reichenberger

potential at two points in the field rather than being an effect of the accelerating motion itself (for further reading see e.g., Reichenberger, 2018b).

10.4 Example 3: Hidden Variables? Grete Hermann’s Critique of John von Neumann’s Proof Question: What do “hidden variables” mean? Physicist: The formalism of quantum mechanics with its two basic concepts, namely quantum states and quantum observables, is indeterministic due to the uncertainty principle. The uncertainty principle asserts a fundamental limit to the precision with which certain pairs of physical properties of a particle, known as complementary variables or canonically conjugate variables such as position x and momentum p, can be measured. The values of an observable will be obtained non-deterministically in accordance with a probability distribution which is uniquely determined by the system state. Some regarded this indeterminacy as a kind of incompleteness in our description of a physical system. It might be that quantum mechanics is an incomplete theory admitting deterministic hidden variables. However, quantum theory and determinism usually do not go together. Philosopher: It is important that we understand what quantum indeterminacy means. Indeterminacy in the sense of “uncertainty” is an epistemic concept. We can’t know with precision both an electron’s position and momentum simultaneously. Does this mean that an electron does not have a determinate position and momentum? If quantum indeterminacy (random behavior demanding probabilistic description) is based on our lack of knowledge of the actual state of the observed system, due to our limited abilities, then one may ask how “intrinsic” this indeterminacy is. Hidden variable theories try to explain the indeterminacy of quantum mechanics as an apparent randomness, resulting from our lack of knowledge of hidden variables in an underlying deterministic model. In contrast, according to the ontic reading of quantum indeterminacy, quantum indeterminacy is the assertion that the state of a system does not determine a unique collection of values for all its measurable properties. In this sense, it is impossible that, for a given quantum state, each one of these measurable properties (observables) has a determinate (sharp) value. The values of an observable will be obtained nondeterministically in accordance with a probability distribution uniquely determined by the system state—independent of our knowledge and resistant to attempts aiming at circumventing its consequences by improving precision of our observations. In this sense, indeterminacy is an objective fact and not just a matter of scientists’ lack of knowledge. It rules out any deterministic local hidden variable theory. Historian: Let us make a short detour through the history of hidden variables theories. The problem of hidden variables was motivated by the probabilistic character of quantum mechanical state description. The name “hidden parameters” was coined by John von Neumann. In his book Mathematische Grundlagen der Quantenmechanik

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics …

159

(von Neumann, 1932) proved that hidden-variables schemes cannot be represented by operators in a Hilbert space. Von Neumann did not claim to have shown the impossibility of hidden variables in general, but argued that hidden-variable theories must possess a structure that deviates fundamentally from that of quantum mechanics. In 1964, John Stewart Bell showed that all theories that satisfy locality and realism (in the sense of EPR) are incompatible with quantum mechanics (Bell, 1966). A valid alternative is to allow for non-local hidden variables, but save the determinism, as for instance is done in Bohm’s theory. In these discussions, one needs to clearly understand what locality and realism mean. Both concepts are highly technical and much debated. The possibility of nonlocal correlation, also known as quantum entanglement, was initially put forward with the question whether quantum mechanics respects local realism, by Albert Einstein, Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen (Einstein et al., 1935), now known as the EPR paradox. According to EPR, two main properties any reasonable physical theory should satisfy are realism and locality. The first one states that if a measurement outcome of a physical quantity, pertaining to some system, is predicted with unit probability, then there must exist ‘an element of reality” corresponding to this physical quantity having a value equal to the predicted one, at the moment of measurement. The second one, locality, demands that elements of reality pertaining to one system cannot be affected by measurement performed on another sufficiently far system. Thus, this principle of local realism is the combination of the principle of locality (limiting cause-and-effect to the speed of light) with the assumption that a particle must objectively have a pre-existing value (i.e. a real value) for any possible measurement, i.e., a value existing before that measurement is made. Based on these two essential ingredients, EPR studied the measurement correlations between two entangled particles and concluded that the wave function describing the quantum state “does not provide a complete description of physical reality”. Bell’s theorem ruled out local hidden variables as a viable explanation of quantum mechanics (though it still leaves the door open for non-local hidden variables). Grete Hermann’s intervention: In her work Die naturphilosophischen Grundlagen der Quantenmechanik (Hermann, 1935) Grete Hermann remarked that the result of von Neumann’s proof was implicitly based on one of the assumptions (axioms) he made, namely the assumption that the expectation value of a sum is indeed equal to the sum of the expectation values. To be more precise, Grete Hermann claimed that von Neumann wrongly assumed a premise as generally valid, i.e. the assumption of linearity, hence additivity of expectation values: E x p( ) ≡ E x p ' ( ) + E x p '' ( ) Von Neumann had assumed that the expectation values for arbitrary observables are linear. In fact, this is true in quantum mechanics only for quantities which can be measured exactly at the same time. If the operators in question do not commute, the choice of the linear combination is not unique. Hermann criticized that Neumann’s proof presupposes an assertion to be proved, thus it is circular. To quote Hermann:

160

A. Reichenberger

Von Neumann assumes that E x p( ) ≡ E x p ' ( ) + E x p '' ( ). . In words: the expectation value of a sum of physical quantities is equal to the sum of the expectation values of the two quantities: von Neumann’s proof stands or falls with this assumption. […] one can no longer infer from the asserted additivity rule for that also in these subsets the expectation value of the sum of physical quantities is equal to the sum of their expectation values. In this way, however, an essential step in Neumann’s proof is missing. If, on the other hand, one – with Neumann – does not reveal this step, then one has tacitly included in the interpretation the unproven presupposition that there can be no distinguishing features at the elements of a set of physical systems characterized by, on which the result of the -measurement depends. But the impossibility of such features is just the assertion to be proved. Thus, the proof amounts to a circular argument. (Hermann, 1935, 224)

John von Neumann proof aimed to demonstrate that hidden variables have to be excluded to the extent that they could fit in the Hilbert space formalism (ibid., p. 252): On the other hand, from the standpoint of Neumann’s calculus one can argue against this, that it is an axiomatic requirement that all physical quantities are uniquely associated with certain Hermitian operators in a Hilbert space, and that through the discovery of new features invalidating the present limits of predictability, this association would inevitably be broken.

Commentary: In his 1974 book The Philosophy of Quantum Mechanics, Max Jammer was one of the first who drew attention to Grete Hermann’s critique of von Neumann’s alleged impossibility proof. According to Jammer, Hermann had already identified the same weak spot in von Neumann’s proof as Bell would uncover in 1966. Recently, Dennis Dieks argued against Jammer “that Grete Hermann’s work, although interesting both historically and philosophically, did not succeed in coming to grips with von Neumann’s proof either. Interestingly, Hermann’s technical objections are in their details rather different from Bell’s although – as I shall argue – equally misdirected” (Dieks, 2016, 137). From a historical point of view both claims need to be corrected. As Mermin and Schack (2018) have shown, Hermann’s “criticism of von Neumann is more thorough than Bell’s, because she follows von Neumann’s argument more closely” (Mermin & Schack, 2018, 1014). Von Neumann’s proof is based on four assumptions, or axioms. Two of them deal with physical quantities and their measurement. They are about statistical properties of data, and they make no explicit reference to the formalism of quantum mechanics. The other two assumptions simply associate physical quantities with Hermitian operators on a Hilbert space, in a way that preserves certain structural relationships obeyed by both the physical quantities and the Hermitian operators. Hermann considered an ensemble of physical systems. There are physical quantities that can be measured on the systems of the ensemble. There is a function E x p( ) that gives the mean value of the measurement outcomes arising from an -measurement on all the systems of the ensemble. Von Neumann assumes that the expectation value of a sum of physical quantities is equal to the sum of the expectation values of the two quantities. This crucial assumption is equivalent to von Neumann’s second axiom. It is trivial, Hermann notes, for classical physics, and for quantum mechanical quantities that can be simultaneously measured, because then “the value of their sum is nothing other than the sum of the values that each of them separately takes, from which follows immediately the same relation for the mean values of

10 A Case Study in Diversifying History and Philosophy of Physics …

161

these magnitudes. The relation is, however, not self-evident for quantum mechanical quantities between which uncertainty relations hold, and in fact for the reason that the sum of two such quantities is not immediately defined at all: since a sharp measurement of one of them excludes that of the other, so that the two quantities cannot simultaneously assume sharp values, the usual definition of the sum of two quantities is not applicable. Only by the detour over certain mathematical operators assigned to these quantities does the formalism introduce the concept of a sum also for such quantities” (qtd. Crull & Bacciagaluppi, 2016, 252). The lesson we can learn from Hermann’s criticism is that the hidden variable problem is definition-sensitive and embedded in an axiomatic framework. The question whether hidden parameters really exist can never be ruled out with absolute and final certainty. We should better ask as to whether a certain model or description admits hidden parameters. That means that any scientific theory might be wrong. The present state of physics, however, makes quantum indeterminism a very well-established theory.

10.5 Conclusion What knowledge becomes part of students’ socialization is based on our decisions. We cannot entirely avoid making decisions about canonized knowledge, for example when creating textbooks or designing degree programs. The selection of courses’ reading lists also contributes to this. A challenge for integrating women into teaching and research lies in self-reflection on these subjects and in addressing relations in the formation of the canon in one’s teaching. Who decides what should or should not be canonical? What consequences does this have for the research area and the discipline? What roles have women and members of disadvantaged social groups played in these debates and what role do they play now? How are gender-based and other inequalities perpetuated or broken down by the way the discipline is practiced? What role is played by the work and biographies of women academics? To shed light on the development of gender and diversity issues, we should teach our students about the academic history of our fields, its interdisciplinary relationships with other fields and integrate women’s work and biographies into this story. This is the lesson and learning objective behind this chapter—not only for students, but especially for teachers. We should practice what we preach.

Bibliography Bell, J. S. (1966). On the problem of hidden variables in quantum mechanics. Reviews of Modern Physics, 38(3), 447–452. Coelho, R. L. (2007). The law of inertia: How understanding its history can improve physics teaching. Science & Education, 16(9–10), 955–974. Crull, E., & Bacciagaluppi, G. (Eds.). (2016). Grete Hermann. Between physics and philosophy. Springer.

162

A. Reichenberger

Densmore, D. (1995). Newton’s Principia: The central argument. Translation, notes, and expanded proofs. Green Lion Press. Dieks, D. (2016). Von Neumann’s impossibility proof: Mathematics in the service of rhetorics. Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 60, 136–148. Du Châtelet, É. (1759). Newton, Isaac: Principes mathématiques de la philosophie naturelle par feue madame la marquise Du Chastellet. Desaint et Saillant. Du Châtelet, É. (1988). Institutions physiques de Madame la marquise du Châstellet adressés à Mr. son fils. Hildesheim et al.: Olms (First published 1742) Einstein, A. (1905). Zur Elektrodynamik bewegter Körper. Annalen der Physik, 322(10), 891–921. Einstein, A. (1911). Die Relativitätstheorie. Vortrag in Zürich, 16. Januar 1911. Naturforschende Gesellschaft in Zürich. Vierteljahrsschrift, 56(1–2), 1–14. Einstein, A. (1918). Dialog über die Einwände gegen die Relativitätstheorie. Die Naturwissenschaften, 48, 697–702. Einstein, A., Podolsky, B., & Rosen, N. (1935). Can quantum-mechanical description of physical reality be considered complete? Physical Review, 47, 777–780. Hankins, T. L. (1990). Jean D’Alembert. Science and the enlightenment. Taylor & Francis. Hermann, G. (1935). Die naturphilosophischen Grundlagen der Quantenmechanik. Abhandlungen der Fries’schen Schule N.F., 6(2), 75–152. Jammer, M. (1974). The philosophy of quantum mechanics. The interpretations of quantum mechanics in historical perspective. Wiley. Lange, L. (1927a). The clock paradox in the theory of relativity. The American Mathematical Monthly, 34, 22–30. Lange, L. (1927b). On a misconception of the relativity of time. School Science and Mathematics, 27(5), 500–506. Langevin, P. (1911). L’évolution de lespace et du temps. Scientia, 19(3), 31–54. McCulloch, M. E. (2014). Physics from the edge: A new cosmological model for inertia. World Scientific. Mermin, N. D., & Schack, R. (2018). Homer nodded: Von Neumann’s surprising oversight. Foundations of Physics, 48(9), 1007–1020. Newton, I. (1972). Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica. 3rd ed., with variant readings. 2 vols., A. Koyré & I. B. Cohen (Ed.). Cambridge University Press. (First published 1726). O’Donnell, P. J. (2014). Essential dynamics and relativity. CRC Press. Reichenberger, A. (2018a, June). Émilie Du Châtelet’s interpretation of the laws of motion in the light of 18th century mechanics. Studies in History and Philosophy of Science Part A, 69, 1–11. Reichenberger, A. (2018b). The clock paradox: Luise Lange’s discussion. In A. Christian, D. Hommen, N. Retzlaff & G. Schurz (Eds.), Philosophy of science: Between the natural science, the social sciences, and the humanities (pp. 55–61). Springer. von Laue, M. (1912). Zwei Einwände gegen die Relativitätstheorie und ihre Widerlegung. Physikalische Zeitschrift, 13, 118–120. von Neumann, J. (1932). Mathematische Grundlagen der Quantenmechanik. Springer. Zinsser, J. P., & Bour, I. (2009). Emilie Du Châtelet. Selected philosophical and scientific writings. University of Chicago Press.

Andrea Reichenberger is currently Research Group Leader at the Department of Mathematics, University of Siegen. Her research activities focus on women’s contributions to logic, mathematics and computer science. Previously, she worked in various research projects at German universities, among them at the University of Hagen, at the Center for the History of Women Philosophers and Scientists at Paderborn University and in the DFG research project “Thought Experiment, Metaphor, Model” at the Institute for Philosophy I at the Ruhr University Bochum. Her doctoral dissertation about Émilie du Châtelet was published by Springer in 2016.

Chapter 11

Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn Fox Keller’s Philosophy of Science Maya Roman

Abstract According to feminist standpoint theory, or feminist epistemology, a person’s standpoint shaped by social factors such as gender, is an important characteristic that can affect the knowledge she will produce. Feminist standpoint theory has had a lasting impact upon feminist philosophy of science and science itself but since its heyday in the 1980s and 1990s has slowly faded. This chapter claims that in order to become relevant and face the criticism that led to its decline, Feminist standpoint theory must establish a way of identifying a standpoint. In this chapter, such a methodology will be proposed based on insights drawn from comparing the work and lives of two philosophers of science; Evelyn Fox Keller and Alfred North Whitehead. Fox Keller’s work in the philosophy of biology stresses the importance of organismic thought and its connection to feminist thought. Whitehead’s philosophy of science stresses the need for a natural science based on concepts drawn from our daily lives. Later he develops his Philosophy of the Organism, which became part of his Process Philosophy. Keller has not been influenced directly by Whitehead, yet their philosophies are similar. This similarity might be due to some shared influences, however these are not evident from reviewing their cited sources or philosophical traditions. This raises the question—is there a correlation between their social experiences and conceptions of science? Delving into Whitehead’s biography reveals feminist influences in his life that, along with the similarities between his writing and Keller’s, point to both sharing a common standpoint. Based on this discovery, this chapter suggests a methodology for identifying an author’s standpoint based on considering both his writing and biographical background.

M. Roman (B) Tel Aviv University, Tel Aviv, Israel © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_11

163

164

M. Roman

11.1 Introduction Feminist critiques of science have proven very fruitful over the years, especially in disciplines such as medicine, archeology, biology and genetics. The philosophy behind these critiques, feminist philosophy of science, has focused on explaining why feminist critiques of science are possible and meaningful, and what are the social conditions for their existence. It is common to divide feminist philosophy of science into three different approaches: feminist empiricism, sometimes referred to as liberal feminism, feminist standpoint theory, or feminist epistemology, and postmodern feminist critiques. While the lines delineating these various approaches are not fixed or, in any way, uncrossable, they help in understanding what each approach means and aspires to do. Feminist empiricism does not challenge the current conception of science but argues that androcentric bias in science is caused by instances of “bad science” where women are absent and hence, their empirical life experiences are not included within the scientific project. This approach does not, however, explain the persistence of androcentric bias within existing scientific theories. Feminist standpoint theory claims women’s lived experiences have not been considered when science and so the scientific enterprise, as a whole, has been conceptualized in an androcentric way. This means we need to reconceptualize science and try and create a more “feminist science” or “feminist philosophy of science”. Lastly, postmodern theories are varied and numerous but they focus on deconstructing harmful scientific rules and exposing the places where power relations affect science. Recent feminist philosophers have grappled with the place of standpoint theory relative to other feminist approaches to philosophy of science and questioned its legacy, continued importance, and meaning. Hekman argues that feminist standpoint theory accurately defined the problem feminists identified within science and helped advance a new epistemological view of science that emphasizes the partiality of different standpoints. However, she claims that the insistence of its adherents, such as Nancy Hartsock, on defining an epistemologically superior standpoint and retaining an objectively preferable description of reality has been discredited (Hekman, 1997). Hartsock, in response, clarified that her conception of standpoint theory has always focused on power and justice rather than knowledge and epistemology. Her feminist version of Marx’s standpoint theory was meant to aid in changing the power relations governing society, and thus, her theory was meant to lead to a science that can aid in creating an equal society. She also emphasizes that standpoint theory focuses on society as a whole and not individual scientists, and thus, its claims regarding a preferable standpoint are to be understood. For her, the individual standpoint must be understood as constructed out of social relations and power struggles. A standpoint is not inherited but achieved through individual, social and political struggles (Hartsock, 1997). This debate continues with some scholars vehemently objecting to standpoint and arguing it is an essentialist theory that harms women in science (Pinnick, 2008) and others debating its influence over feminist philosophy and philosophy of science. A recent special issue of Hypatia was dedicated to the question “Is Standpoint

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

165

Theory a Resource for Feminist Epistemology” (Crasnow, 2009). In that issue, Rolin argued that standpoint theory is primarily relevant for social scientists seeking to uncover power relations (Rolin, 2009). Kourany suggested a different classification of feminist theories: the methodological approach, social approach, and the naturalist approach, and showed how all three require some of the resources developed by feminist standpoint. She notes that several crucial problems still face standpoint theory, specifically, the problem of defining a standpoint and justifying a specific standpoint as epistemologically superior (Kourany, 2009). Intemann argues that the different approaches to feminist philosophy of science are no longer as distinct as was initially thought and suggests merging them into a “feminist standpoint empiricism” (Intemann, 2010). Wylie defends the continued relevance of feminist standpoint to scientific practice (Wylie, 2012). Lastly, Crasnow pinpoints the criticism of standpoint theory to some of its components, specifically epistemic privilege, the problem of defining a standpoint, and the spatial metaphor of locating a particular standpoint. She quotes Pohlhaus, who argues that feminist standpoint needs to develop the political conception of the knower further and emphasize the building of knowledge communities (Crasnow, 2013). This argument harkens back to the Marxist origins of the theory stressed by Hartsock. This chapter wishes to continue the discussion regarding feminist standpoint theory out of a belief that solving the theoretical problems identified by several philosophers, specifically, the problem of identifying particular standpoints and arguing for the justification of specific standpoints, is the best way to advance women in science and a science that is compatible with feminist values and an equal society. It is also the only way to continue and develop a feminist critique of the exact sciences and not focus solely on the sciences of man and the social sciences. Feminist critiques of science have yet to become influential in the “harder” sciences, such as physics (Rosser, 2001). This is due, among other causes, to the fact that the subject matter of physics is very abstract and does not carry any clear gendered concepts and that there are far fewer women physicists than men, so there is no way to characterize the gendered division of labor in the field. This chapter argues that feminist standpoint theory offers a way for feminist critiques to become relevant even for disciplines such as physics by further developing the concept of a standpoint and its relationship to abstract concepts. This means that one can characterize the gendered aspect of physics even without clearly gendered concepts or the presence of women, but through examining the gendered experiences of male physicists, for example. However, as many feminist philosophers have argued, for feminist standpoint theory to offer a way of analyzing one person’s standpoint regarding the body of knowledge she, or he, creates, it must establish a methodology for clearly identifying and defining different standpoints. Sketching such a methodology is the main contribution of this work. This chapter is a case study that compares Alfred North Whitehead’s and Evelyn Fox Keller’s philosophy of science, and specifically, philosophy of the organism. This case study is useful not only because Whitehead’s philosophy of science has been unfortunately neglected through the years, but also because the similarities it

166

M. Roman

shares with Keller’s philosophy lead to an interesting outcome concerning feminist standpoint theory and will be the basis for the development of a methodology for identifying different standpoints. It will be argued that the many similarities that exist between Keller’s and Whitehead’s writing, along with similar biographical influences, mean that they should be considered as holding the same standpoint. The concept of a standpoint is a key feature of feminist standpoint theory. Feminist standpoint stresses the importance of including the voices of neglected and marginalized groups in any corpus, not only because it is the just thing to do, but because of the epistemological advances that such an inclusion promises. Different standpoint epistemologists offer different tactics for this inclusion but all stress the importance of including different and diverse “standpoints” in any scientific corpus in order to achieve greater objectivity. One of the problems that halted the progress of feminist standpoint theory is the lack of a clear definition for what a standpoint is and who can hold it. Standpoint epistemologists claim that a standpoint is not just an identity, the fact that one is a member of a specific social group. For instance, the standpoint that reflects the insights gained from women’s lives and experiences is available to all kinds of people and genders, and not just women. Additionally, a standpoint is crafted through social struggles and attempts at political change. It is hard to define an individual standpoint because it is, at its core, a feature of the political and social world. This case study stresses these points, by noting the similarities between Evelyn Fox Keller’s philosophy of science and Alfred North Whitehead’s and shows that the same “standpoint” can be held by various individuals. This similarity can be seen as undermining the basic assumption at the heart of feminist standpoint theory. If two people who have had extremely different lived experiences, a man writing in the beginning of the twentieth century and a woman writing towards the end of that century and still today, can reach similar philosophical conclusions then, it would seem, standpoint theory does not hold; different lived experiences do not lead to the creation of different bodies of knowledge. However, upon closer examination it will be shown that Keller’s and Whitehead’s lived experiences aren’t completely different. More specifically, it will be shown that even though Whitehead was not a woman, he was exposed to and adopted a feminist standpoint, one that takes into account women’s lived experiences and so can be seen as sharing such a standpoint with Keller, a recognized feminist philosopher of science. First, however, a quick overview of feminist standpoint theory is following.

11.2 Feminist Standpoint Theory Feminist standpoint theory draws from Hegel’s description of the epistemological advantage of the “slave” (Harding, 1986, 191) and from “Marxian standpoint of the proletariat” which showcases how in unequal societies, bodies of knowledge tend to uphold the interests of the dominant groups (Harding, 2015, 29). Adopting these

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

167

theories and using them alongside the category of gender led to the assumption that women as a social group might have a “more complete and less perverse” standpoint (Harding, 1986, 26). Sandra Harding’s version of feminist standpoint theory rests on two basic assumptions as Rentetzi (2002) makes clear: 1. The assumption that men and women encounter different experiences which lead to different epistemological standpoints and 2. That women’s standpoint is privileged and can produce a more accurate and coherent account of nature. Evelyn Fox Keller’s characterization of feminist standpoint epistemology is slightly different. Keller, like Harding, sees men and women as occupying different epistemological standpoints and particularly, she traces the origin of this difference to psychological differences created during childhood. However, she reaches a different conclusion regarding how their differing standpoints should be understood. Unlike Harding, Keller claims that the feminist standpoint is privileged because it has been historically lacking from our bodies of knowledge and specifically, science. She claims a new form of knowledge should be constituted by a dialectical process that takes place between the different standpoints (Keller, 1996, 32). Keller does not claim the feminist standpoint is inherently privileged in regards to the standard, nonfeminist standpoint, but that it is missing from the conversation and so has led to a creation of a one-sided scientific project. Regardless of which version of feminist standpoint theory one adopts, two criticisms remain relevant for both: 1. The postmodern critique claims that standpoint theory is essentialist. It assumes there is one standpoint that characterizes all women and thus perpetuates gender differences and makes the preformed category of women into a fixed one. 2. The “scientific” critique claims that standpoint theory might be relevant for the social sciences and even some of the “softer” sciences such as biology and psychology, but that it cannot truly improve upon the exact sciences such as Physics. In order for feminist standpoint theory to be relevant in this day and age, it must find a way to address these two critiques. This chapter suggests that a solution for both critiques exists and is located at the gap between discussing women in philosophy of science and feminist philosophy of science. In order to further clarify this gap and its relevance, one must understand what exactly a “standpoint” is in this context.

11.3 What Is a Standpoint? A standpoint is a complete view of the world, the stance from which one starts one’s research about the world. If we accept the “view from nowhere” as an unachievable “god trick” the way Donna Haraway characterizes it (Haraway, 1996), then we

168

M. Roman

must accept that every research begins from a standpoint shaped by a researcher’s experience, values and culture. Harding claims that these are shaped differently due to gender. However, it is important to emphasize that she does not equate a standpoint with one’s identity, or social group. Harding claims that women’s lives can provide a more accurate standpoint from which to launch scientific investigations. This does not imply that women will be better researchers than men (Harding, 1986, 140). In Harding’s words: “Yet another misunderstanding is to think that only those who are themselves members of a particular oppressed group can develop and use a research or policy standpoint that comes from that group” (Harding, 2015, 41). One of the problems with Harding’s account is that she does not seem to provide a clear methodology for assessing a person’s standpoint. If a standpoint isn’t an outcome of being part of an oppressed group but an internalized perspective of the world created by a multitude of experiences and differing forms of oppression, then how do we know what a researcher’s standpoint is? Should we take a person’s word for it? Can we recognize a standpoint posthumously? How can one researcher identify another’s standpoint when one’s own standpoint colors this identification? Can one even define an individual standpoint or is it a tool only relevant for statistical and broad social claims? This chapter suggests that in order to identify an author’s standpoint as feminist we must first identify his or her writing as holding a feminist standpoint, promoting a view of the world that is consistent with feminist values and helps in exposing androcentric writing. However, that is not enough. A standpoint can not only be reflected in a person’s writing. It is a complete view of the world that must characterize a person’s life. That is why we must use a two-tier verification approach and look for evidence of a feminist standpoint in said person’s personal life as well as in his or her writing. This two-tier verification method can help us identify a person’s standpoint, or at the very least, can help us identify two similar standpoints. In order to see how this methodology can be implemented, let us now dive into the case of Alfred North Whitehead’s and Evelyn Fox Keller’s philosophy of science.

11.4 Whitehead’s Philosophy of Science Whitehead is driven to analyze and criticize the scientific enterprise because of a philosophical problem he locates at its core—the bifurcation of nature. This problem is caused by the collision of two incommensurable concepts that are used to describe the world. Science describes a world made up of inanimate, corpuscular, imperceptible entities. However, our subjective experience of the world, according to Whitehead, consists of a world made up of complex events whose main characteristic is having a duration in time (Whitehead, 1964, 13, 30). Science cannot accommodate this latter description and so ignores it completely; this is a grave error, according to Whitehead.

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

169

Whitehead states that science should not discriminate between elements of nature: primary and secondary qualities, electro-magnetic waves and the red glow of the sunset (Whitehead, 1964, 39). For natural philosophers, “all of nature is in the same boat, to sink or swim together” (Whitehead, 1964, 44). He sets out to reformulate philosophy of science and science itself as to include all of the elements that one is aware of through sense perception. Whitehead’s suggested solution to this problem is his method of extensive abstraction. For Whitehead, abstractions are a basic necessity of any science of nature. For example, consider the mathematics that describe the movement of the pendulum—a mathematical tool used to solve many mechanical problems in physics—many times, in order to solve the equations of motion of the pendulum, physicists assume small angle oscillations that allow for the equation to be solved analytically. These abstractions are also present in almost any form of calculus through linear approximations and the very concept of integrating and differentiating, which uses the abstraction of an infinitesimal size. Whitehead claims that whenever a subject describes an object, formulates a scientific theory, or even uses a word, he is abstracting. These abstractions are the way people, as finite creatures, are able to apprehend part of the infinite world (Whitehead, 1964, 12). It follows that these abstractions always include a certain selection (Whitehead, 1967, 18). These abstractions are powerful tools that help uncover the way the world works, but they are not infallible. It is up to philosophy to coordinate between various abstractions and not let one overwhelm the others. However, some abstractions are so successful, not only in helping people understand the world, but in serving the interests of the time, that they obscure this need for criticism and balance (Whitehead, 1967, 59, 16). Whitehead’s assumption that people always abstract relies on the assumption that what one is aware of in sense-awareness are complex interconnected events. Events are particular. Each event is one of a kind; it is made up of all of the infinite things that occur during a certain duration of time. Because each event is unique, one cannot use them to build a substantial body of knowledge. One requires something to help generalize and these are objects. “Objects are elements in nature which can ‘be again’” (Whitehead, 1964, 144). Subjects explain the recurrences they see in nature by using various kinds of objects (Palter, 1960, 24). The way one views and describes the world is defined by an interplay of events and objects (Whitehead, 1964, 144). When one thinks of the world as made up of objects, the events in it are changed. Once one starts thinking using objects, one sees events differently. For instance, you, the reader, are now part of a once in a lifetime event because all that you experience now will never come again—you will never read these words for the first time in the exact setting in which you currently are. In order to consider this unique event you require objects—words, pages, sounds—all of these are permanent objects that you recognize because you have been taught to recognize them and once they exist in your mind they can never be wiped away—you cannot understand this, or any other event, without them, try as you might. Whitehead stresses the importance of the subject thinking about a particular event in determining the event. He has a specific term for the phenomenon—cogredience.

170

M. Roman

Cogredience is the special relation between the percipient event (the thinking subject) and the duration (an abstraction of the event). The limits of an event—what counts as part of the event and what does not—are defined by the percipient event. When there is a change in the percipient event (the subject), there is a change in duration (Whitehead, 1964, 109). The different ways which one will choose to abstract the world are dependent upon one’s spatio-temporal location, one’s social experiences, and one’s basic individual makeup. The different ways people abstract the world are closely connected to their individuality (Whitehead, 1967, 102). A problem then arises: how should society choose between these different abstractions of the world? In order to solve this problem Whitehead uses the concept of the organism, a concept that tries to connect object and subject—the individual modes of thought and the environment in which they exist. It is the outcome of the interplay of subjects with different teleological goals and the objective world. The objective world, it should be added, is not the given fact of nature, but is itself the historical, cumulative outcome of the interplay of subjects and events that came before with the fact of nature (Stengers, 2011, 130, 137). Different scientific branches need to accept their basic abstractions as fact in order to flourish and so, they cannot always be self-reflective. This is where the philosophy of the organism comes in. Its job is to connect the various abstractions of the different branches of knowledge and to help them avoid stagnation and mistakes such as the bifurcation of nature (Stengers, 2011, 142). Philosophy’s role according to Whitehead is to keep science in check and return it to people’s day-to-day experience in the world by suggesting new concepts and abstractions that it might have overlooked (Palter, 1960, 222). But the organism is not only present in the overall philosophical scheme that criticizes the various abstractions of the different sciences. Each successful idea is basically an organism that has evolved to fit in with its environment. So, as Stengers puts it, “every science of nature, insofar as it deciphers a reality in terms of the interplay of individual actors, concerns organisms” (Stengers, 2011, 165). A physics that takes the philosophy of organism seriously should treat its objects, its atoms and electrons, as organisms and not inanimate objects. Whitehead tries to retell the story of the development of science using this concept so as to make people used to thinking of it in this way (Stengers, 2011, 165). He even creates his own version of the theory of relativity based on the abstraction of the organism.

11.5 Evelyn Fox Keller’s Philosophy of Science Whitehead’s ideas seem extremely similar to several feminist philosophers, such as Helen Longino (1987), Donna Haraway (1985) and Sandra Harding (1986). that came decades after him but, in most cases, were not exposed to his writing. Specifically,

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

171

feminist philosophers of science dealing with feminist standpoint epistemology.1 One such scholar, whose work will be the focus of this chapter, is Evelyn Fox Keller. One of Keller’s biggest criticisms of science regards the concept of objectivity and that affects her approach to feminist standpoint theory. Keller uses Winnicott’s psychoanalytic theory of object relations (Keller, 1996, 34) in order to characterize the masculinity of value-free objectivity. She shows how, while growing up, our maternal environment and cultural values lead to masculinity being related to autonomy and separation, while femininity is associated with merging and being part of a whole (Keller, 1996, 33). This association is at the heart of the concept of objectivity; “Along with autonomy the very act of separating subject from object – objectivity itself – comes to be associated with masculinity” (Keller, 1996, 33). Additionally, the abundance of concepts of domination when it comes to nature is characterized by Keller as relating to a masculine cultural construct (Keller, 1996, 35). This idea along with the characterization of nature as female, are both present in the writings of many philosophers of science, notably, Bacon, one of the founding fathers of value-free objectivity (Keller, 1996, 36). Keller sees science as aspiring to two things—domination and union, both are created by the tendency to see the world as divided between female and male qualities (Keller, 1996, 36). Keller’s conclusion is that a new concept of objectivity should focus on creating a dialectical process between both values (Keller, 1996, 32). Some scientists, mostly women, are already creating such science (Keller, 1996, 37). Keller gives as an example of the competition between “organistic and particulate view of cellular organization” (Keller, 1996, 38) in biology. Barbara McClintock is the most well-known proponent of the non-hierarchical, organismic view of the cell. She emphasizes the connection between the various parts of the cell. In her theory, all objects interact and are defined by their environment, “control is not found in a single component of the cell but in complex interactions of the system” (Keller, 1996, 39). McClintock’s example highlights how scientific theories, not just the methods of investigation, can be affected by the means and goals of science and of the scientists who partake in it (Keller, 1996, 38). As argued, Keller’s conception of feminist standpoint theory is based on connecting the lived experiences of women and men, in a political, social world, where women and men are assigned different roles, to the philosophical and scientific abstractions they can develop. This is shown by her argument connecting the childhood experiences of men and women as different based on object relations theory and the fact that women are usually the primary care-givers and the abstraction that sees objectivity as autonomous and value-free (Keller, 1996, 33–34). This is also shown by her characterization of McClintock’s non-hierarchical view of the cell and the way she connects it to the fact that McClintock as a woman and scientific 1

This paper focuses on the similarities between Whitehead’s process philosophy, or philosophy of the organism, and Evelyn fox Keller’s interpretation of feminist standpoint theory and philosophy of the organism. Further comparison of his philosophy to other feminist scholars is needed to further test the hypothesis suggested in this paper but will not be attempted here.

172

M. Roman

outsider could “afford” to make challenging scientific claims, to take risks that most men in her position, with their roles as bread-winners to consider, probably could not. It is important to note that these characterizations show how different abstractions, such as scientific theories, or philosophies of science, can be connected to one’s experience in the world. However, this experience isn’t the experience of being male or female, but the experience of gender, connected to the political and social structure that creates and maintains it. Thus, Keller shows the connection between an individual’s social location, or standpoint, in the deep political sense, and the abstraction they might create or advance. By doing this, Keller also stresses how one can choose to conceive of a given situation using different abstractions - the organismic versus the hierarchical model of the cell, the value-neutral versus the socially embedded nature of objectivity. This point is already reminiscent of Whitehead’s philosophy, particularly his ideas regarding the necessity of abstraction. This similarity is not that unique, many philosophers have talked about the importance of various abstractions to creating theories about the world but the fact that both Whitehead and Keller reach the conclusion that the organism, or the organistic view of the world, is the solution for dealing with these various competing abstractions is a much stronger parallel between the two. It is important to note that Keller does not mention Whitehead or his writing and is writing her philosophy of science, at least three decades after Whitehead’s times. However, one big difference exists between their organistic solutions. Keller connects the organistic, holistic world-view to the feminine, as opposed to the classic concept of “value-free” objectivity that cherishes autonomy and separation and is associated with masculinity. Whitehead does not make this connection. Whitehead is also, conspicuously, a man. Furthermore, he is a British man writing in Cambridge during the beginning of the twentieth century. He is, therefore, not the optimal candidate for holding a feminist “standpoint”. Yet, it seems that Whitehead holds that same holistic and organismic view. How is this possible?

11.6 Biographical Feminist Influences in Whitehead’s Life The similarities between Whietehead’s philosophy and Keller’s raise an interesting question. When taking standpoint theory seriously, these similarities suggest Whitehead held a feminist standpoint, or a different standpoint that can lead him to similar conclusions. If that is the case and his standpoint has influenced his writing, then it seems reasonable that it would have manifested itself in his life as well. If so, there must be some historical/biographical evidence for this. In Whitehead’s short autobiographical essay (Whitehead, 1951) and detailed biography by Lowe (1985) there is evidence suggesting Whitehead did hold a certain feminist standpoint. Whitehead’s attitude towards women and marriage was not very characteristic of his time. As attested in Lowe’s book, by his responses to a discussion with “the

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

173

apostles,” the Cambridge elite club he was part of. Whitehead saw marriage as an opportunity for two equals to collaborate and refused to think of women as weaker or as less deserving than men (Lowe, 1985, 171). He was also a family man. The beautiful letters he wrote his son Thomas North attest to that (Lowe, 1985, 280–341), and his love for his wife, Evelyin Willoughby Wade, is evident from his autobiographical essay (Whitehead, 1951, 3–14). His relationship with his wife was also unusual for the time because Whitehead didn’t simply love his wife, he appreciated her outlook and perspective on life and credited her with influencing his philosophical positions, as he attests (emphasis is mine): In December 1890 my marriage with Evelyn Willoughby Wade took place. The effect of my wife upon my outlook on the world has been so fundamental, that it must be mentioned as an essential factor in my philosophic output… My wife’s background is completely different, namely military and diplomatic. Her vivid life has taught me that beauty, moral and aesthetic, is the aim of existence; and that kindness, and love, and artistic satisfaction are among its modes of attainment. Logic and Science are the disclosure of relevant patterns, and also procure the avoidance of irrelevancies. (Whitehead, 1951, 13)

Lowe describes Evelyn Wade as an independent woman, self-assured and filled with self-confidence. He believes Whitehead loved her because of her fearlessness and readiness to devour life (Lowe, 1985, 171–175). Whitehead and Evelyn Wade were also politically active. Whitehead describes taking part in trying to advance women’s equality in Cambridge (Whitehead, 1951, 13), a description that appears in Lowe as well (Lowe, 1985, 214–217). When Whitehead was at Cambridge, women were extremely scarce (Lowe, 1985, 87). Some women were allowed to attend classes in Cambridge but only with a chaperone and they would not be able to receive a degree in Cambridge until 1948 (Lowe, 1985, 89). Women were only allowed to attend classes of dons who agreed to their presence, Whitehead always agreed (Lowe, 1985, 214). Whitehead also taught mathematics at Girton College, and was associated with Newnham College, the two women’s colleges operating at Cambridge at the time (Lowe, 1985, 217). In 1896–1897, a campaign was launched to advance women’s positions in Cambridge. It was nicknamed “the women’s war”. The Cambridge Senate was urged to consider the question of granting women the right to attend Cambridge. In the May 14, 1896 issue of the Cambridge Review there appeared an article called “On Ideals: with Reference to the Controversy Concerning the Admission of Women to Degrees in the University” it was signed “W”, the same way Whitehead had signed two previous stories he published in the Review. Lowe is almost completely certain this article, urging for the acceptance of women in Cambridge, was written by Whitehead (Lowe, 1985, 214–215). In June 1896, Whitehead was named one of 14 members selected to lead a syndicate (the second one formed to discuss this question) to investigate the question of women in Cambridge. Whitehead, along with the majority of the members of the syndicate supported a compromise—women will be granted titles in the university, but could not vote for its institutions. He considered this the pragmatist way forward (Lowe, 1985, 216–217). The senate voted against the syndicate’s recommendation: 1707–661 (Lowe, 1985, 217).

174

M. Roman

Whitehead’s feminist standpoint becomes even clearer when we consider the stances of his contemporaries. Paula Gould in her paper, “Women and the culture of university physics in late nineteenth-century Cambridge” (Gould, 1997) quotes J. J. Thomson in one of his letters regarding women in his lectures: I think you would be amused if you were here now to see my lectures — in my elementary one I have got a front row entirely consisting of young women (some of them not so young neither, as someone says in Jeames’ diary) and they take notes in the most painstaking and praiseworthy fashion, but the most extraordinary thing is that I have got one at my advanced lecture. I am afraid she does not understand a word and my theory is that she is attending my lectures on the supposition that they are Divinity and she has not yet found out her mistake.

Gould’s paper also reveals another characteristic of women’s participation in Cambridge science—they were usually allowed to perform basic experiments but almost never able to creatively contribute and thus shape the scientific concepts at play (Gould, 1997, 139–140). Gould stresses how women who wanted to be part of scientific life, many times “married into science” (Gould, 1997, 148) but even then were almost never credited for their scientific work and when they were, were credited as assistants and not actual scientists (Gould, 1997). Compare this treatment of women with the way Whitehead credits his wife with influencing his philosophical stance, not just in aiding his writing but in changing his “outlook on life”. That is a truly unusual way to address one’s spouse at Whitehead’s time and strong evidence for his unique, feminist standpoint.

11.7 What’s in a Standpoint? Taking feminist standpoint theory seriously means developing a methodology for identifying a standpoint. A major criticism faced by standpoint theory is the claim that it was developed for social scientists and has little to offer the natural sciences (Longino, 1996). In order for feminist standpoint theory to develop further and contribute to areas of research that do not deal directly with social relations and power structures, it needs to identify a method of determining a scholar’s standpoint. Another crucial criticism is that one cannot identify a single standpoint because there are many differing positions of oppression. Additionally, one cannot argue for a specific standpoint as preferable, or justified because of this inability and the lack of general, widely agreed-upon norms to help adjudicate which standpoint is preferable. This case study is meant to aid in developing such a methodology by addressing several of the above concerns. First, it addresses the fundamental issue of describing a specific standpoint by pointing towards the political commitments of the philosophers involved. Whitehead took part in feminist struggles meant to advance women in academia, Keller was one of the first women to obtain a PhD in physics from Harvard. Both share this political standpoint, not because of their identities but because they took part in similar struggles. This standpoint is then reflected in their writing. Both advocate a view that leads to inclusion of various standpoints and abstractions.

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

175

Thus, this chapter suggests, a standpoint can be broadly characterized through a dual view—looking at the political struggles and commitments that one takes part in and at the philosophical, scientific or social ramifications of the abstractions, or theories, one advances. Simply pointing at the fact that Whitehead’s philosophy of science is similar to Keller’s, does not mean he held a similar standpoint to hers. Additionally, Whitehead’s support of granting women rights in Cambridge and his love and respect of his wife do not make a feminist standpoint. Surely, many philosophers have held such a stance, even in the beginning of the twentieth century. It is the combination of these two instances that suggests one should identify Whitehead’s standpoint as a feminist one. A standpoint is, above all else, a commitment deeply held. It is a characteristic of the way one views the world, a defining characteristic. This is a crucial distinction. If a standpoint were simply an idea, a certain way of thought, then it would have been too transient to characterize. People change their minds all the time, but they do not change their standpoints quite so easily. This distinction is crucial in order for feminist standpoint epistemology to be taken seriously. It does not pertain to all views, theories or thoughts but deals with a person’s most deeply held and ingrained beliefs and commitments. In order to identify a standpoint, one must do so from several different perspectives. This case study uses a philosophical and textual comparison alongside a biographical one. These are a starting point but also cannot truly be considered irrefutable proof. It is this author’s hope that more scholars will look at Whitehead’s writing in many different fields and add their assessments of his standpoint to the mix. This is crucial because one can only describe Whitehead from one’s specific standpoint. In this case, the standpoint of a feminist philosopher of science, and one standpoint does not describe a full picture. Whitehead’s work, specifically his attempts at creating a new physics, more attuned to the concept of nature he thought should be our most basic abstraction, can become an important contribution to feminist attempts at creating a successor science. One of the greatest challenges faced by feminist philosophers of science has been to show how feminist philosophy and feminist science are useful concepts in the exact sciences and not just the social ones. Whitehead’s visionary attempt at creating a successor physics can be of great help in this sense. Identifying his standpoint as a feminist one allows feminist philosophers of science to build on his achievements without fear of falling back into the same androcentric science. Feminist standpoint theory can be used as a tool to help combine and understand more fully how different theories and ideas come together. It is a way to balance different abstractive sets, it is the tool that can help philosophers of science fill the role Whitehead thought they should fill that can hopefully lead to a better science based on a more complete, feminist, concept of nature.

176

M. Roman

Bibliography Crasnow, S. (2009). Is standpoint theory a resource for feminist epistemology? An introduction. Hypatia, 24(4), 189–192. Crasnow, S. (2013). Feminist philosophy of science: Values and objectivity. Philosophy Compass, 8(4), 413–423. Gould, P. (1997). Women and the culture of university physics in late nineteenth-century Cambridge. The British Journal for the History of Science, 30(2), 127–149. Haraway, D. (1985). Manifesto for Cyborgs: Science, Technology and Socialist Feminism in the 1980s. Socialist Review, 15(2), 65–107. Haraway, D. (1996). Situated knowledges: The science question in feminism and the privilege of partial perspective. In E. F. Keller & H. E. Longino (Eds.), Feminism & science. Oxford University Press Harding, S. (1986). The science question in feminism. Cornell University Press. Harding, S. (2015). Objectivity and diversity: Another logic of scientific research. University of Chicago Press. Hartsock, N. C. M. (1997). Comment on Hekman’s “Truth and method: Feminist standpoint theory revisited”: Truth or justice? Signs, 22(2), 367–374. Hekman, M. (1997). Truth and method: Feminist standpoint theory revisited. Signs, 22(2), 341–365. Intemann, K. (2010). 25 years of feminist empiricism and standpoint theory: Where are we now? Hypatia, 25(4), 778–796. Keller, E. F. (1996). Feminism and science. In E. F. Keller & H. E. Longino (Eds.), Feminism & science. Oxford University Press. Kourany, J. A. (2009). The place of standpoint theory in feminist science studies. Hypatia, 24(4), 209–218. Longino, H. (1987). Can There Be A Feminist Science? Hypatia, 2(3), 51–64. Longino, H. E. (1996). Subjects, power and knowledge: Description and prescription in feminist philosophies of science. In E. F. Keller & H. E. Longino (Eds.), Feminism & science. Oxford University Press. Lowe, V. (1985). AN Whitehead: The man and his work (1861–1910) (Vol. 1). The John Hopkins University Press Palter, R. M. (1960). Whitehead’s philosophy of science. University of Chicago Press. Pinnick, C. L. (2008). Science education for women: Situated cognition, feminist standpoint theory, and the status of women in science. Science & Education, 17(10), 1055–1063. Rentetzi, M. (2002). Feminist epistemology: How a case study from history of science undermines Harding’s standpoint theory. In A. Bammé, G. Getzinger, B. Wieser (Eds.) (pp. 103–119). Profil Verlag, Munich and Vienna. Rolin, K. (2009). Standpoint theory as a methodology for the study of power relations. Hypatia, 24(4), 218–226. Rosser, S. V. (2001). Are there feminist methodologies appropriate for the natural sciences and do they make a difference? In I. Bartsch & M. Lederman (Eds.), The gender and science reader. Routledge. Stengers, I. (2011). Thinking with Whitehead (M. Chase, Trans.). Harvard University Press. Whitehead, A. N. (1951). Autobiographical notes. In P. A. Schilpp (Ed.), The philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead. Tudor Publishing Company. Whitehead, A. N. (1964). The concept of nature. Cambridge University Press. Whitehead, A. N. (1967). Science and the modern world. The Free Press. Wylie, A. (2012). Feminist philosophy of science: Standpoint matters. Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association, 86(2), 47–76.

11 Alfred and Evelyn: A Comparison of Alfred N. Whitehead’s and Evelyn …

177

Maya Roman is a Ph.D. student at the Cohn institute for the history and philosophy of science and ideas at Tel Aviv University. Her dissertation is focused on the intersection between philosophy of mind and philosophy of science and critiques Dennett’s reductive philosophy of mind for its cost to scientific rationality. Her research brings together several philosophers of science who focused on similar concerns—Wilfrid Sellars, Charles Taylor, Evelyn Fox Keller, and Alfred North Whitehead. She is interested in analytic philosophy, philosophy of cognitive science, feminist epistemology, and process philosophy, particularly in finding connections between these diverse and seemingly contradictory philosophical traditions. She is also the founder and publisher of “Politically Corret,” a feminist Israeli news organization.

Chapter 12

Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements as a Form of Women’s Engagement with Science Evangelia Chordaki and Antigoni Lazopoulou

Abstract Between 1976 and 1986, feminist birth control movements emerged within the Greek public sphere. Informed by the second wave of feminism, the activists involved questioned both the dominant medical knowledge by emphasizing its masculine character, as well as the various relevant decision-making processes. Thus, different social groups, by developing their own experience-based expertise, approached the issues of abortion and contraception in two distinct ways: on the one hand, autonomous feminist groups used it as a gateway both for their involvement in Obstetrics and Gynecology (OB/GYN) practices and their engagement in medical knowledge by focusing on their experiences, needs and desires, and their self-education and self-organization, while on the other hand, women’s associations and organizations perceived it as a chance to participate in the policy making process. By approaching Greek feminist birth control movements as boundary movements capable of operating both inside and outside the boundaries of science, we will examine women’s efforts to reclaim their active role in birth control. Moreover, within the framework of science communication, we will explore such movements as examples of the relationship between science and society. We will argue that the history of feminist birth control movements can be re-examined as a history of an alternative form of knowledge that correlates women with scientific ideas and practice and, moreover, science with the public. We will not only elucidate the complexity of the scientific phenomenon, but also we will highlight the presence of women in science in terms of the production and circulation of knowledge.

E. Chordaki (B) National Hellenic Research Foundation, Athens, Greece e-mail: [email protected] Seeger Center for Hellenic Studies, Princeton University, Princeton, NJ, USA A. Lazopoulou Athens, Greece © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 C. C. Harry and G. N. Vlahakis (eds.), Exploring the Contributions of Women in the History of Philosophy, Science, and Literature, Throughout Time, Women in the History of Philosophy and Sciences 20, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-39630-4_12

179

180

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

12.1 Introduction In recent years, different approaches to the History of Science regarding the relationship between science and society have focused on social movements. More specifically, studies of Health Social Movements [HSMs] (Brown & Zavestoski, 2004; Brown et al., 2004), and their contributions to the discussions within both History of Science and Gender Studies, reveal women’s involvement in science at a public level, while emphasizing the social character of scientific knowledge. Since 1960, critiques by feminist Health Social Movements has highlighted a number of issues relevant to the History of Science, such as the unquestioned acceptance of medical knowledge, the scientization of decision-making processes where technoscience shapes social policy, as well as the credibility, authority and power relationships of scientific knowledge (Brown & Zavestoski, 2004, 52; Brown et al., 2004, 1). By sharing the same concerns, we will approach the emergence of Greek feminist movements for abortion and contraception using methodological tools derived from History of Science and Science and Technology Studies. Our theoretical framework will follow three main axes. Firstly, the notion of experiential expertise will help us examine how feminists developed an alternative kind of experience-based expertise outside the dominant academic sphere. Secondly, the concept of boundary movements will allow us to perceive such grassroots movements as hybrid movements that work both inside and outside the boundaries of science. Thirdly, science communication will provide the necessary framework for explaining feminist movements for abortion and contraception as a relationship between science and society. For many years, the emphasis on the positivistic conception of science shaped the notion of expertise as a phenomenon that could be located only within the boundaries of the scientific community. On the contrary, the third wave of Science and Technology Studies (Collins & Evans, 2002) reconfigured its meaning, influenced by the social construction of knowledge, which reconceptualizes science as a social activity, correlates social, economic and political interest in the production of knowledge and highlights the blurred lines between scientific expertise and political rights. The expansion of expertise results in the inclusion of other forms of expertise such as lay expertise or experiential expertise. Additionally, focusing on the relationship between experts and non-experts, a shift is provided towards the content of expertise against the analysis of factors like professionalism, qualifications, and certificates (Broks, 2006, 31). Thus, the notion of expertise now is associated with public participation in disciplines and fields relevant to science and technology, as well as with public involvement in decision making (Sismondo, 2016, 294). The aforementioned conceptualization of expertise allows us to search expertise regarding abortion and contraception within feminist movements. Furthermore, by approaching public expertise as a process of participation and involvement of lay people both in scientific practices and processes of decision making, we are able to include in our analysis all the relevant women’s groups that emerged in the Greek public sphere between 1976 and 1986.

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

181

Furthermore, the concept of boundary movements1 regarding social movements that operate inside and outside the boundaries of science (Brown & Zavestoski, 2004, 687) is crucial for this study. According to the analytical tool of boundary movements, the “boundaries between professionals and lay activists become blurred while actors change places and thus, physicians become more politicized and lay activists more professionalized” (2004, 687). In this way, the concept describes social movements as “cultural and analytical spaces […] that move between social worlds and realms of knowledge” (McCormick et al., 2003, 547). More specifically, boundary movements focus on the reconsideration of demarcations, both between scientific and nonscientific knowledge and between experts and lay actors. Several case studies relate boundary movements to women’s grassroots health movements2 where personal experience acquires visibility and operates both as political and as scientific tool (McCormick et al., 2003, 563). Therefore, according to McCormick et al. (2003, 571), personal experience is transformed into a public issue and lay people involve themselves in science in two ways: by gaining access to scientific knowledge and by linking their own personal or collective knowledge to the scientific one. In our analysis, Greek feminist birth control movements are conceived as boundary movements. In these hybrid movements feminists developed their own experiencebased expertise and blurred the lines between dominant places and practices of scientific activity. As previously stated, experiential expertise and boundary movements provide a shift towards places outside the academic boundaries where scientific practices emerge. In the present case, the shift refers to the public sphere. Hence, feminist birth control movements can be analyzed as a relationship between science and society within the Greek public landscape. Given that this relationship has been debated among scholars of different disciplines, historiography provides alternative models for analyzing it.3 This case study shows the presence of science in society and the parallel construction of knowledge outside the academic sphere. Thus, science communication provides us with a necessary framework that highlights the crucial role of different modes of public expertise, such as experiential expertise and the conditions of their development. Indeed, science communication emphasizes on intersections and relationships instead of focusing on limits and boundaries. According to Bensaude-Vincent (2009), it is of crucial importance to understand that the symmetrical approach of science communication explains the presence of science in the public sphere as a phenomenon that reshapes its content dynamically. As a result, concepts of co-production and 1

According to Brown and Zavestoski (2004, 687), the concept derives from Star and Greisemer’s (1989) concept of “boundary objects” and Gieryn’s (1983) notion of “boundary work”. 2 See McCormick et al. (2003), Joffe et al. (2004), Brown and Zavestoski (2004) and Brown et al. (2004). 3 See Sismondo (2016), Broks (2006), Topham (2009a, 2009b), Bensaude-Vincent (2001, 2009) and Bucchi and Trench (2014).

182

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

cooperation are included in the understanding of this relationship’s nature (2009, 364). In that regard, Bensaude-Vincent (2009) stresses the key role of understanding the relationship between science and its “others”, not only in terms of actors but also in terms of coexistence of rival forms of knowledge. According to her, the involvement of the lay people in the construction of scientific practices and ideas must be perceived as an integral part of the scientific activity, where epistemic hierarchies of knowledge are undermined. Accordingly, the interpretation of science as a communicative action4 “reshapes questions of trust, testimony and communication objectivity into questions of how knowledge travels, to whom is available and how agreement is achieved” (Keim, 2014, 89). In that respect, the field of science communication focuses on the conditions, objects and sites concerning the circulation of scientific ideas. In this regard, scholars claim the inclusion of science communication to the wider field of history of knowledge that examines the “role of knowledge in society and human life” (Östling et al., 2018, 10). Thus, the aforesaid shift to knowledge and knowledge transformations enables the reexamination both of the conditions of knowledge appearance and disappearance within specific contexts and of the social groups and institutions related to its content (2018, 11–12). Hence, knowledge is perceived as an encoded experience accompanied by material, spatial and social dimension that crucially affect its content (Renn, 2015, 40). Literature5 offers a wide spectrum of perspectives as regards the presence and role of science in the public sphere. Contemporary approaches of science communication discuss the complex relationship between science and the public as an integral and not marginal part of scientific phenomenon. Thus, rival forms of knowledge such as experience-based expertise and dominant scientific knowledge are described in terms of coexistence and co-production. Consequently, boundary movements can be a useful analytical category for examining this process of feedback between expert and lay knowledge. We suggest using this theoretical framework not only as a path for revealing the complexity of scientific activity, but as a way to highlight the presence of women in science. Indeed, such conceptual tools provide a shift towards alternative

4

See Topham (2009a, 2009b) and Secord (2004). See indicatively: Broks P. (2006). Understanding popular science. Open University Press; Daum, A. (2009). Varieties of popular science and the transformation of public knowledge: Some historical reflections. Isis, 100(2), 319–332; Dickson, D. (2000). Science and its public: The need for a “third way”. Social Studies of Science, 30, 917–923.; Papanelopoulou F., Nieto-Galan A., & Perdiguero, E. (Eds.) (2008). Popularizing science and technology in the European periphery, 1800-2000. Ε ASHGATE; Gavroglu, K. (2012). The ideology of popularization and the popularization of ideology: Some issues for the history of science. Revista Brasileira de História da Ciência, Rio de Janeiro, 5(2), 224-231; Hilgartner, S. (1990). The dominant view of popularization: Conceptual problems, political uses. Social Studies of Science, 20(3), 519–539; Ostling, J., Sandmo, E., Larsson Heidenblad, D., Nilsson Hammar, A., & Nordberg K. (Eds.). (2018). Circulation of knowledge: Explorations in the history of knowledge. Nordic Academic Press; Secord, J. A. (2004). Knowledge in transit. Isis, 95(4), 654-672; Bensaude-Vincent, B. (2001). A genealogy of the increasing gap between science and the public. Public Understanding of Science, 10, 99–113.

5

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

183

spaces and practices beyond the dominant scientific ones,6 where the presence of women is visible and crucial for shaping both the science centered political agendas and the scientific content, by including women’s experience and by criticizing the male character of medical knowledge which turns women’s needs and desires into irrelevant or insignificant issues. Within this context, our research will focus on the twentieth century birth control movements in Greece between 1976 and 1986. Our research starts few years after the fall of the Junta of the Colonels and ends with the legalization of abortion in May 1986 (Law, 1609/1986), when the bill was filed in the parliament. By focusing on feminist movements in support of abortion and contraception, we will approach them as boundary movements capable of operating both inside and outside the boundaries of science. Abortion movements are considered as an insightful case study within Science Studies, while they provide various perspectives where Science, Public and State are intertwined. The main aim of the current chapter is to reveal the experiencebased expertise that women developed within the social movements for abortion and contraception. In doing so, we will approach the history of Greek feminist movements as history of an alternative form of knowledge that correlates women with science and simultaneously science with the public. Greek feminist movements for abortion and contraception include different social groups. On the one hand, numerous autonomous grassroots groups placed the struggle for abortion into a broader critical discourse towards scientific practices and medical knowledge. In this sense, the emphasis on gender relations and the constant exclusion of women from scientific activities was crucial for shaping feminists’ demands, regarding their active participation in Obstetrics and Gynecology. On the other hand, several women’s associations, mostly related to political parties, correlated abortion with state institutional framework regarding both gynecology and feminism. It is worthmentioned that despite their differences, both groups claimed the legalization of abortion and brought their experiences into clear view. Our research is based on the study, careful selection, analysis and presentation of 21 different types of primary archival material that were provided by the Digital Database of Gender and Equality Studies of Panteion University (Athens/Greece) and the Library on Gender and Equality (Athens/Greece) between 2018 and 2019. The archives that are the basis of the current chapter include brochures, feminist magazines (Dini,7 Skoupa,8 Mitra 2,9 Gaia10 ), Greek newspapers of general interest (Avgi, Ethnos, Kathimerini, Mesimvrini, Nea), proclamations and posters.

6

See von Oertzen et al. (2013), Govoni (2009) and Fontes da Costa (2009). Dini is the name of a feminist magazine. The exact translation of the name in English is Vortex. 8 Skoupa is the name of a feminist magazine. The exact translation of the name in English is Broom. 9 Mitra is the name of a feminist magazine. The exact translation of the name in English is Matrix. 10 Gaia is the name of a feminist magazine. The exact translation of the name in English is Earth. 7

184

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

12.2 The Greek Feminist Movements for Birth Control: A Brief Historical Review from 1976 to 1986 Since the 1960s, feminist analysis in Western Europe and US has dealt with the question of the legalization of abortion and the proliferation of contraception (Avdela et al., 1986, 8). Indeed, the second wave of feminism emerged worldwide and influenced feminist movements during that period. Women argued that the personal is political and transformed their personal experiences into public issues, criticizing the patriarchal character of science and emphasizing on health demands. However, the complicated political conditions in Greece did not allow feminist ideas to flourish until about 1975–1976 (Mitra2, 2005, 13).11 In 1967, the Junta of the Colonels was established and the military government dominated the political landscape until 1974. That being so, the oppressive regime did not allow social movements to emerge until 1973 when the Polytechnic Uprising took place in Athens. As a moment of great importance in Greek contemporary history, the dynamic rebellion against the dictatorial regime culminated on 14 November 1973 with the occupation of the National Technical University of Athens and ended with the bloodshed of 17 November 1973. The events of 1973 and the fall of the dictatorial regime shaped dynamically the Greek social and political sphere where the feminist movements emerged. After the fall of Junta of the Colonels many Greek women who lived abroad and participated in the European feminist movements returned to Greece.12 Thus, the ideological framework of European feminist movements influenced the discourses developed within Greek birth control movements. However, what is particularly interesting in the Greek case is that abortion was a common practice despite being illegal. Indeed, the archival material and literature show that 300.000 illegal abortions took place every year in Greece (Avdela et al., 1986, 9). Hence, since their beginning in 1976, feminist movements revealed the need for the legalization of abortion and most importantly focused on the need for information on contraception. This dual aim of feminist movements, soon showed the differentiation between the social groups that participated in them. On the one hand, autonomous feminist groups approached the legalization of abortion and the spread of contraception by developing a feminist critique against the male character of the dominant science, focusing on self-organization, self-education and self-determination of the female body. On the other hand, women’s organizations, mostly related to political parties, 11

Mitra 2 (2005), A conversation with G.: “Women’s bookstore and women’s movements in Greece”, No Woman’s Land (Μήτρα 2η αναπαραγωγής ιδεών για την αθέατη πλευρά του ανταγωνισμού, Μια συζήτηση με την Γ.: Το βιβλιοπωλείο των Γυναικών και το γυναικείο κίνημα στην Ελλάδα, No Woman’s Land), pp. 1–24. 12 Feminism in Greece has a long history that can be traced in the 19th century (see indicatively: Xiridaki, K. (2020), Το φεμινιστικό κίνημα στην Ελλάδα 1830-1936 [Feminist movements in Greece 1830-1936], Koukida Publications; Avdela, E., & Psarra, A. (1985), Ο φεμινισμός στην Ελλάδα του Μεσοπολέμου [Feminism in Greece during the Interwar Period]). Here we refer only to the feminist movements that emerged in the Greek public sphere in the second half of the 20th century and especially for those related to birth control.

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

185

approached these issues as part of state feminism, closely related to family planning, and their demands focused on the institutional framework. Despite the variety of their approaches both groups co-existed in the Greek public sphere, sometimes exchanging argumentations and sometimes following completely different paths. In 1975, named International Year of Women by the UN, the legalization of abortion was discussed among many other topics in a seminar organized by the National Council of Women, the Lyceum Club of Greek Women, the League for Women Rights, the Association of Greek Women Scientists, the Greek HEN (Christian Association of Women), the Federation of Greek Women, the Association of Greek Women Lawyers and Zonta of Athens (Avdela et al., 1986, 10–11). At the same time, the starting point of autonomous feminist movements for abortion and contraception is considered the emergence of the ‘Movement for the Liberation of Women’ in 1976, accompanied by their introductory brochure where they state that abortion is not a contraceptive method and should be free and legal even for the minors (Avdela et al., 1986, 9). Thus, autonomous feminists and women’s groups took actions in both directions. In 1976, a successful public exhibition regarding contraceptive methods was organized by the Sexuality/counterfeiting Team of the Movement for the Liberation of Women, while at the same time the Greek Association for Family Planning was established and the Movement of Democratic Women was engaged with abortion issues (Avdela et al., 1986, 10–11). Two years later, in 1978, Karamanlis right-wing government and Health Minister S. Doxiadis extended the medical indication with the Law 8211 that allowed abortion until the 12th week of pregnancy, in cases where there was a risk to mental health of the mother (the evaluation would be provided by a psychiatrist) and until the 20th week in case of severe abnormalities of the fetus (Avdela et al., 1986, 12). Despite the alteration of the Law, feminists continued their struggle on the basis of self-organization both by organizing feminist groups13 and by publishing numerous articles in feminist magazines and magazines of general interest, aiming to provide information about abortion (Avdela et al., 1986, 13–14). Meanwhile, on 31 March 1979 the International Day of Contraception was celebrated in Greece for the first time, and a public event was organized by the Women’s Group of Law School and the Movement for the Liberation of Women in the University of Athens.14 Gradually, abortion was crossing the limits of private sphere and was introduced in the Greek public landscape as a social issue. During the second celebration of the International Day of Contraception, ten autonomous women’s groups distributed 13

An indicative example was the formation of a group of female students in the Department of Medicine in 1979. http://foundation.parliament.gr/VoulhFoundation/VoulhFoundationPortal/ima ges/site_content/voulhFoundation/file/Ektheseis/Feminismos/3/4_Aftonomes%20omades%20c ombo%20small.pdf. 14 This event was supported by women’s movements in urban areas of the capital city of Athens such asthe Movement of Democratic Women of Pagkrati and Ampelokipi, Women’s Group of the Cultural Association of Paleo Faliro, Group of Foreign Women and individual women (Avdela et al., 1986, 14).

186

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

proclamation in public, about abortion and contraception. Feminist groups gradually appear one year later, when material with the same problematic was shared by different women’s groups of universities around the country and urban areas (Avdela et al., 1986, 15).15 In October 1981 the Panhellenic Social Movement (PASOK), the center-left Social-Democratic Party, won the elections and since the beginning of its governing committed itself to “put an end to the unacceptable regime of illegal abortions, with complete and scientific information on family planning, contraception and the legalization of abortions” (Avdela et al., 1986, 16). The victory of PASOK changed crucially the feminist landscape in Greece, while its commitment to legalization of abortion linked women’s groups to the development of state feminism. At the same time, autonomous feminist groups endured their struggles and multiplied. In 1981, Contraception Group was created alongside with Contraceptive Group of Women’s Home, while “regional” groups emerged in different areas of Athens and other cities in Greece, such as Paleo Faliro, Piraeus, Thessaloniki and Ioannina (Avdela et al., 1986, 17). A turning point of the abortion struggles was the campaign of the Autonomous Women’s Movement, which took place on February 1983 and was the first national campaign of the feminist movement in Greece. Their declaration was accompanied by a document signed by 500 women from all social classes who publicly stated that they had had abortions, denouncing the existing regime and demanding immediate decriminalization (Public Statement, 198316 ). The campaign was crucial for two reasons: on the one hand it was a key factor for the promotion of the legalization of abortion while on the other hand, it led the involved social groups into a public conflict. Indeed, in 1985, seven of the women who signed the above-mentioned document were interrogated. A demonstration was organized instantly by autonomous feminists who stated “we are all illegal”. There, the Union of Greek Women with the presence of Margarita Papandreou (the wife of the Prime Minister) tried unsuccessfully to cancel the demonstration while at the same time members of religious organizations were present, claiming that “abortion is a crime” (Kathimerini, 1986, April 24).17 In the meantime, General Secretariat for Gender Equality was founded by PASOK and the Union of Greek Women. Finally, in May 1986 (Law, 1609/1986) the bill was filed in the parliament and recognized the right of a pregnant woman to decide freely whether she wanted to continue with her pregnancy or end it, during the first 12 weeks. The coexistence of different social groups that participated in the movements for abortion and contraception in Greece is apparent despite the differentiations in their dynamics during the decade 1976–1986. It is however interesting that one day after 15

Women’s Group of Panteion University, Women’s Group of Piraeus, the Autonomous Women of School of Philosophy and Women’s Group of School of Philosophy. 16 A document of Public Statement signed by 459 women who had had abortions (1983) (Δημόσια δήλωση γυναικών που έχουν υποβληθεί σε έκτρωση). 17 See also Nea (1986, April 20) and Avgi (1986, April 25).

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

187

the legalization of abortion, M. Papandreou publicly stated: “The bill was filed thanks to us and our struggles were justified” (Avdela et al., 1986, 24).

12.3 The Gradual Emergence of Women’s Experiential Expertise Despite that we have presented chronologically the general social and political conditions that framed and shaped the development of the Greek feminist movements for abortion and contraception, we will not present the archival material in a chronological order; instead we will focus on the thematic content of the archives. In doing so, we aim to stress the difference of the public discourse and practices between the two currents, the autonomous feminist groups and the women’s associations, that on the one hand enabled their participation in medical practices and knowledge and on the other hand, formed a way for their involvement in shaping the relevant policy framework.

12.3.1 The Autonomous Feminist Groups Since the beginning of Greek feminist movements in 1976, the autonomous feminist groups focused their demands on self-education and self-organization. Women identified themselves responsible for defining the problem regarding abortion and contraception and also for providing solutions according to their needs (Skoupa, 1979, [1]5418 ). Hence, they operated in two directions: on the one hand they tend to reclaim the control of their bodies through their active involvement with contraception, abortion and feminine hygiene19 and on the other hand, they contributed to the circulation of female and male contraception in public spaces such as schools, universities and workplaces (Avdela et al., 1986, 11, 16). In that direction, between 1978 and 1987 we recognize the appearance of several, usually closed, feminist groups.20 18

This is cited by the article “Sexuality” (unknown author). The editors of the magazine are Avdela Efi, Fani Ziozia, Leda Moshona, Mariliza Mitsou – Pappa, Georgia Papageorgiou, Marina Papagiannaki, Inda Florendin, Anna Fragkoudaki, Angelica Psarra. 19 They emphasized on the fact that “by identifying sexuality with reproduction we lose the control over our own body […] we lose the right to decide if and when we will have children” (Dini 1986, 10) and they suggested that “knowing our bodies and reclaiming the control regarding our own ability for reproduction is a necessary condition for the overthrow of the patriarchal ideology […]. The process of realization is not personal […] is information regarding our bodies, our sexuality, the control or the interruption of pregnancy […]. Let’s take in our own hands the issue of contraception, abortion and hygiene […]” (Avdela et al., 1986, 15). 20 Feminist groups include: the group of Sexuality/Counterfeiting from the Movement for the Liberation of Women, the Medical Students Group (1978), the Contraception Group (1981), the

188

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

Women’s participation in such groups was crucial for their engagement with scientific ideas and practices. In spite of the development of a critical discourse within the feminist groups, which will be presented below, several practices regarding their own education (both in theoretical and in practical context) and the circulation of knowledge in the public sphere, were central issues to our historical actors. Furthermore, we notice a systematic presence of events in the public sphere, such as the exhibition of contraceptive methods in July 1976 (Avdela et al., 1986, 11, Women’s Bookstore) for “the circulation of the possibilities offered by modern science”, the public discussion about contraception and the legalization of abortion and the call for discussion in Law School (Athens) under the title “We own our body: Free abortion and contraception” (poster under the same title). At the same time, translations of international texts, such as the brochure regarding contraception by the Commission for the Sanitary Information of the Swedish Social Welfare Directorate (Contraceptive Methods) and the list of literature21 (Avdela et al., 1986, 16), were common practices within feminist circles. All the above-mentioned practices were an expression of women’s need for alternative forms of knowledge and diverse and deeper scientific research in regards to abortion and contraception, where their experiences will be visible (Gaia, 1985, 55). An interview provided in Mitra 2 (2005, 9) by a member of the feminist autonomous movement, highlights the aspects indicated above: [...] I participated in a self-examination group [...] to become the doctors of ourselves. We took a speculum and looked at our vagina, our cunt, knowing our body, its functions. This made you not think of it as dirty anymore, or soap it or shave it […]. Many books were circulating, [...] the central theme was the functions of the female body, menstruation, diet, pregnancy, birth, breast cancer, menopause etc […]. The instruments (medical infrastructure) were, and still are, too cheap. A speculum, a mirror and a torch [...] (we were) from 5 to 15 women in each group [...].

Since the introduction of feminist movements, the autonomous groups contextualized the demand for free and legal abortions with the free provision of contraception, the feminine hygiene and the improvement of medical conditions during abortion. They

Contraception/Abortion Group of Women’s Home in Thessaloniki (1983), the Women’s SelfExamining Team (1984), the Self-Help/Self-Knowledge Groups and the Pregnancy/Birth/Maternity Group (1985), the mixed group Ag. Preparation or Self-Examination Group “Amazons” (1987) (Autonomous Groups of Women in the era of Democratic Transition [Metapolitefsi]). 21 The list included the following books that were translated in Greek: Boston Women’s Health book collective (1981). Our bodies ourselves. Ipodomi Publications (Ομάδα γυναικών Βοστόνης (1981). Εμείς και το σώμα μας. Εκδόσεις Υποδομή); Women’s Group of Denmark (1980). Woman and her body. Odysseas Publications (Ομάδα γυναικών Δανίας (1980). Η γυναίκα και το κορμί της. Εκδόσεις Οδυσσέας); French Μovement for Family Planning (1980). Let’s learn how to make love. Ipsilon Publications (Γαλλικό κίνημα για τον οικογενειακό προγραμματισμό (1980). Να μάθουμε να κάνουμε έρωτα. Εκδόσεις Ύψιλον); Group of French Students (1979). Klimentini or the Contraceptives. Stohastis Publications (Ομάδα μαθητριών από την Γαλλία (1979). Κλημεντίνη ή τα αντισυλληπτικά. Εκδόσεις Στοχασμός); Movement for the Liberation of Women (1977). Contraceptive Methods. Korotzis Publications (Κίνηση για την απελευθέρωση των γυναικών (1977). Αντισυλληπτικά Μέσα. Εκδόσεις Κοροτζής).

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

189

often denounced that “abortions take place under unacceptable and insulting conditions for the human dignity that are also dangerous for women’s health” (Campaign, 1983) while at the same time the illegality created an environment of “mystery and horror” (Movement of Democratic Women of Koukaki and the Autonomous group of Koukaki). As we have already mentioned, the grassroot feminist groups did not demand a state control management. They were trying to secure their active involvement in every aspect of abortion and contraception. Thus, they focused on the creation of advisory centers and centers of sexual education, where their presence would be crucial and not marginal, aiming to the reconceptualization of gender relations and the reconfiguration of female bodies (Movement of Women regarding Abortions). Indeed, a plethora of posters that can be found in the collection of the Research Center for Gender and Equality (Athens), highlights women’s demand to reclaim their bodies, the importance of the legalization of abortion and the spread of contraceptive methods. The following statements reveal the necessity of the transformation of abortion and contraception into a social issue: “take the laws out of our bodies”, “we own our bodies”, “legal abortions fewer abortions”, “woman have you ever been informed that contraception exists?” or “woman how much do you pay for an abortion”.22 According to the archival material 300.000 illegal abortions took place in Greece every year, making the legalization of abortion crucial. Besides the above, feminists focused their analysis on the rationale for doctors, state and the church’s support to the criminalization of abortion. Thus, a critical discourse regarding several aspects of scientific activity and the ideological narratives they embodied, emerged within the autonomous feminist groups. Towards that end, feminists noticed that gynecology as a scientific discipline related to abortion and contraception, ignored their needs and focused on the logic of profit making (Skoupa, 1979, [1]55). According to them, illegal abortion was a profitable market while the 1390 gynecologists around Greece earned 4.5 billion drachmas per year (Avdela et al., 1986, 16). Furthermore, feminist scrutiny subjected issues of “scientization” and “professional expertise” for legitimizing the absence and ignorance of women’s needs and experiences from the practices of gynecology. In Skoupa magazine (1979, [1]37)23 they claimed: [...] Gynecologists through science, rationality, the label of expert and as the only ones who come into direct contact with the woman are the ones who shape her perception regarding the functions of her body and mainly reproduction. In the past, the whole field of folk medicine related to nativity, abortion, contraception, was in the hands of women [...].

Indeed, feminists often used examples such as midwives, practitioners or witches in order to discuss women’s engagement with knowledge throughout history (Skoupa, 1980, [4]5). Women’s involvement in public knowledge and public medicine was 22

The correlation of abortion and contraception with women’s oppression is apparent in a poster of 1984 which states: “Abortion is illegal, Contraception is absent, marital rape is legal and women’s abuse is daily” (Library for Gender and equality). 23 This is cited by the article “Doctors talk...” (unknown author).

190

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

apparent and considered unquestioned. However, what is particularly interesting is the permanent dispute of their relation to scientifically acclaimed medical knowledge and practices (Kondili, 1980, 5). Simultaneously, a central issue of their analysis was the male dominance in the construction of research, education and science itself. According to the archival material, narratives regarding neutrality of science, the progressive character of scientific phenomenon and the determination of those social problems that need to be solved by science, are shaped by men. Men were not only leading actors of science but appeared to be the ones who shaped both history and scientific knowledge (Kondili, 1980, 5). Towards this direction, it is particularly interesting that critical discourse of Greek feminists against science and especially against the patriarchic ideology that is embodied in scientific practices and theories, never indicated the rejection of total scientific activity and never aim to discredit science in general. The progressive character of science and the important achievements of scientific endeavor were never criticized per se. Instead, feminists either argued that particular scientific developments never came to the Greek area or they demanded “science to serve women” (Avdela et al., 1986, 10) by pointing out the male character of scientific content and their (women’s) own need to be part of it. They characteristically claim: “research for the quality and variety of contraception, on the contrary with the progressive developments of other areas of medicine, is still on early stage” (Avdela et al., 1986, 16). Moreover, by mentioning doctor’s relationship to the lucrative industry of abortion, they state that “[doctors] deliberately ignore the developments of modern technology and the findings of Medicine regarding contraception” (Campaign, 1983). Thus, it is obvious that feminists had positive feelings of trust towards technoscientific achievements and never aimed to abolish its content. On the contrary, their struggle was a way for their inclusion in Medicine and Biology in a way that would permit them to represent their own female reality and not the male one (Gaia, 1985, 54).24 Furthermore, feminist critiques regarding Medicine reveal important aspects of scientific culture, where ideological narratives regarding gender, racial and class discriminations as well as the construction of the national identity and the commercialization of science, are embodied in OB/GYN practices. In many cases, they discuss the limited resonance of contraception as a phenomenon connected to agendas both of international pharmaceutical trusts and the triptych doctors—church—state (Skoupa, 1979, [1]55).25 Illegal abortions (they argue), were legitimized and constituted a contraceptive method because of the lack of reliable information about contraceptive methods and women’s ignorance of their own bodies and health.26 At the same time, they criticize narratives regarding a “pure” and “classless” science that stands above conflicts and expediencies and denounce 24

This is cited by the article “Biology and the male superiority” (unknown author). This is cited by the article “Some thoughts instead of an epilogue” (unknown author). 26 An illuminating example can be found in (Skoupa, 1980, [2]102) where they write: “[…] In many countries doctors gain more money from abortion procedures than for providing information regarding contraception. Everywhere, forced sterilization serves racial policies. Information and contraception often remain privilege of upper classes. Research regarding safe contraception is 25

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

191

the “imprisoning” character of science where psychiatrists are guards (Skoupa, 1980, 91).27 Meanwhile, feminists indicated the correlation between doctors and church: “[…] we, as the women that are called hysterical when we are unmarried or we are on menopause, we are the first that talked about covert abortions in the expensive clinics, when doctors and church were remaining hypocritically silent. We (women) are demanding legal and free abortions […]” (We as Women, 1986). Additionally, abortion was frequently part of a general critique about women’s lack of control over productivity, presented as an answer to the political dimensions of state’s control over it. In 21 November 1985 Christos Sartzetakis (President of Greece) announced in the magazine Tahidromos that Greek women should give birth in order to help the nation stand in equal terms against the Turks. In this example, we see how abortion, in a political level, became part of a narrative regarding the population and military power of the Greek nation against the neighbor country (Movement of Democratic Women of Koukaki and Autonomous group of Koukaki, 1985, November 26). Feminists’ response was immediate: “Instead of fighting against abortions you should fight against nuclear equipment […] stop playing with woman’s body and her destiny […] we refuse to work for the military forces through childbirth”. Feminists’ self-education was not limited on the scientific framework, albeit it included their access to the institutional and legal framework not only in Greece but worldwide. Indeed, archives show a plethora of articles regarding the legislation of abortion in Greece with the simultaneous presence of special issues that provided information for other countries such as France, Switzerland, Italy and Spain, where women struggled for birth control (Skoupa 1984–1986 [2,3,5]). Concerning the role of the doctors in the feminist movements for abortion and contraception, it is worth to say that we noticed a differentiation on their attitudes. There are several articles where doctors support the legalization of abortion by presenting cases of other European countries while at the same time opinions against it are expressed within the medical circles such as the example of the Association of the Greek Catholic Scientists (Kathimerini, 1986, April 24) and the 92 medical professors and lecturers of the Aristotelian University of Thessaloniki (Avgi, 1986, April 29). However, what it is particularly interesting is the involvement of medical students in women’s struggle for abortion and contraception, which reveals their multiples identities. As women and future doctors, they write (Avdela et al., 1986, 22): As a group of medical students, we do not only transfer our experiences as women. Every single day we challenge ourselves in the courses that are related to our sexual and biological role. OB/GYN and Pediatrics embody in their theories and practices ideologies that establish our supposed sexual and biological character. Now, as women, we realize the need to know

sabotaged by the international pharmaceutical trusts which define their priorities according to their profits and not according women’s needs”. 27 This is cited by the proclamation that is presented in the magazine. The proclamation is signed by several feminist groups in April 28, 1980.

192

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

our body, now that gynecologists’ oppression in unbearable, now that new mothers struggle against the ideological violence that shapes them socially, now we as medical students refuse to stay impassible in front of the procedures through which we as doctors, will be the next oppressors of our own gender. Instead, we will be those who will fight the ideology of Gynecology and Pediatrics, an ideology that tortures women regarding their most important aspects, sexuality, pregnancy and motherhood.

According to the statistics28 32% of women used “pull out” method as a contraceptive method, 8.5% had an abortion before their first child birth and 64% after the second child birth (Skoupa, 1979, 36).29 Additionally, statistics for the year 1933– 1934 show that 43% of the convicted were sentenced for abortion and 81% for hiding their pregnancy.30 Within such problematic conditions, autonomous groups of women emerged in the public sphere since 1976 and till the legalization of abortion ten years later, tried to transform a personal problem into a social one. By contextualizing their theoretical analysis and practices, feminist activists achieved gradually their engagement to science in terms of active participation that derived from their own expertise and knowledge. As the archives showed the multilevel character of their involvement included a wide spectrum of perspectives regarding abortion and contraception that was not limited in the Greek or legal context but was connected to broader political and ideological dimensions of scientific practices and methods and to global responses against them.

12.3.2 Women’s Associations and Organizations Apart from autonomous feminist groups, many different groups of women had been engaged in public level with the issue of abortion and contraception. Despite the fact that in many cases, the latter’s discourse presents some similarities to the former’s one, the general framework was completely different. According to the archival material, autonomous feminists supported the right to abortion and contraception and denounced the conventional approach to the notions of family and motherhood simultaneously. As stated in the relevant feminist critique, these notions were related to a standard view on women’s social role in a male centered world, to their body and their sexuality. On the contrary, women’s organizations and associations which were linked to political parties or institutional feminism, demanded the legalization of abortion within the framework of family planning preserving family and motherhood. Moreover, the demographic problem was part of their analysis and thus legalization of abortion was presented as a “rational and friendly option for the average size of Greek families” (Avdela et al., 1986). This differentiation between autonomous feminists and women’s groups indicates that

28

This specific statistic refers to the periods 1962–1964 and 1966–1967 (Skoupa, 1979, 36). This is cited by the article “Statistics” (unknown author). 30 The only statistic we found in our archives was in Skoupa (1980, 69). 29

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

193

for the latter experiential knowledge shaped their participation in the state scientific policy making. The public event mentioned above (p. 7), was organized in 1975 by women’s groups and associations and set their framework regarding the issues of abortion and contraception across strongly. For them, abortion was linked both to women’s health and family planning, while women’s sexuality was correlated to family, and motherhood was identified to the demographic problem (Avdela et al., 1986, 11). Indeed, in that sense, a year later the Family Planning Association of Greece was established.31 Furthermore, the shift to state and governmental management of abortion is evident in the article of Women of Democratic Movement under the title “Abortions: Ostrichism and Hypocrisy” (Avdela et al., 1986, 12) that contains social criticism of the multiple dimensions of abortion, state’s hypocrisy, doctor’s speculation and the lack of information albeit a feminist contextualization is missing. Additionally, among the demands of a state-controlled program of contraception, the spread of contraceptive methods through Mass Media, the establishment of family planning institutions, women demanded to participate in the government committees regarding the construction of the law.32 In the same direction, after the slight law modifications in 1978, the Federation of Greek Women published an article in the magazine Modern Woman under the title “Abortions: the problem that has not been solved yet” (Avdela et al., 1986, 13). Amongst the demands for abortion and contraception, the authors underlined the need for participation in the parliamentary committees. At the time, the government did not allow women’s active involvement in shaping the law, however some years later women’s organizations made their voice heard. In fact, a letter published in the newspaper Ethnos was addressed to the Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Justice by Federation of Greek women (Ethnos, 1985, January 26), where they underlined the correlation between the legalization of abortion and the protection of motherhood. Meanwhile, the League for Women’s Rights published an article in the magazine “Women’s struggle” under the title “Free abortion, every woman’s right” (Avdela et al., 1986, 13) where experts and academic professors were invited to discuss different aspects of abortion. In the introduction, it was pointed out that abortion is related both to the proper family planning and the issue of birth deficit and infertility. In doing so, the authors highlighted those social problems and made a demand for state management. Abortion is yet again analyzed in terms of protection of family and motherhood and women turn to the legislative framework to express their opinion 31 Their informational brochure under the title “When should a child be born” mentions: “[…] YOU SHOULD GIVE BIRTH ONLY WHEN YOU WANT. Family planning will provide you all the necessary information. NOT BY ACCIDENT […] Choose the correct contraceptive method in order to avoid the unwanted pregnancy […] Ask our association!” (Avdela et al., 1986, 12). 32 According to the archival material, Women of Democratic Movement in 1985 write: “[…] we ask from the President of Greece to meet us in order to hear our opinions, the opinions of women’s movement, regarding this serious subject (abortion) that is related to us and for which only we (women) are the first to decide how to solve it”.

194

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

regarding the making of the law.33 Indeed, after the big demonstration of 1985, the Minister announced the creation of a law committee where women’s organization would be invited (Mesimvrini, 1985, January 26).34 As R. Lampsa notes in the article “Abortion, a hot problem of women”, “[…] (the League) wants to push the government to vote the bill […] our aim is not the increase of abortions but to decrease them as much as possible under the proper family planning […]”. As we mentioned above, in many cases the Minister of Health publicly stated the need for an open dialogue between the experts and women’s organizations. Thus, the latter participated in the discussions and promoted their own ideas and agendas, as the exclusive interlocutors between the official state and the feminist movements (Avdela et al., 1986, 20). The debates between 1983 and 1984 brought to the public sphere another very important group, the Union of Greek Women. The Union’s magazine “Open Window” made reference to abortion for the first time in an article entitled “The legalization of the abortion” (Avdela et al., 1986, 20). According to the authors, the spread of contraceptive methods and the application of family planning was of crucial importance. As a matter of fact, those demands were made in the public demonstration of 25 January 1984 where the Union of Greek Women, the Women of Democratic Movement, the Federation of Greek Women and the Association of Greek Women Scientists participated. Once again, the demand for legalization was framed by family planning and the spread of contraception while the need for women’s participation in decision making was obvious in the statement of M. Papandreou (member of the Union): “Our central demand is the bill to be submitted to the parliament as fast as possible, with the consent of women’s organizations” (Nea, 1984, January 1). This tension between autonomous feminist groups and women’s associations and organizations produces also two different worldviews. On the one hand, the latter envisioned an institutionalized approach regarding the control of their bodies and their social position while the former, pushed for a more radical vision which tried to appropriate notions of the body, women’s health and sexuality based on their own experiences and self-organization.

12.4 Conclusion The history of Greek feminist birth control movements could be considered as a history of an alternative form of knowledge provided by women intertwined with science within the public sphere. Indeed, the presentation of the archival material made evident that women’s experiential expertise was expressed in two different directions. Autonomous feminist 33

The need for change of the legal framework is also apparent in their brochure: “Legalization of abortion means the control of a real situation, 400.000 abortions per year, that the current criminal law failed to face [...]” (League for Women’s Rights). 34 The League was part of this committee.

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

195

groups emphasized on their experiential knowledge in order to be actively engaged in scientific practices. Their approach to the content and methods of the dominant scientific practices was critical, challenging the masculine character of science.35 On the contrary, for women’s associations and organizations that were often linked to political parties, abortion was framed by the state feminism and their experiences were expressed as an important factor for shaping the relevant policy framework. Hence, they related the public dialogue with the state and influenced the construction of the institutional network. Furthermore, within science communication framework we were able to examine our case study as a relationship between science and the public. Therefore, we focused on the circulation of scientific ideas among different social groups within various places. In fact, by approaching the communicative practices for abortion and contraception as part of the wider history of knowledge, we were able to show the emergence of public knowledge about women’s health and sexuality in Greek society between 1976 and 1986. Thus, through our case study, issues regarding the demarcation between scientific and public knowledge have been stressed, while at the same time, we correlated the development of an alternative form of knowledge with the demand for a more feminine science and not the rejection of the scientific content. Indeed, Greek feminist birth control movements were a form of women’s intervention to Greek society. By entering dynamically to the public sphere, they demanded visibility both to scientific practices and the political and institutional scene. In this regard, Greek feminist birth control movements have enriched the existing scientific discourse with other forms of expertise providing a more pluralistic model of knowledge. Nowadays similar practices are apparent worldwide. Women’s experiences are the center of analysis for many researches such as the alternative design of the birth chair or the speculum. Thus, History of Science and STS, by focusing on gender, can reexamine women’s presence in science not only within examples where women are being approached as neglected victims or as exceptional figures but through their collective actions that are taking place both inside and outside the boundaries of science. Acknowledgements This chapter was initially presented as a paper at the 3rd International Workshop “Women in the History of Science, Philosophy, and Literature”, Syros, Greece, 12–13 July 2018. We are grateful to the organizing committee: G. Vlahakis, M. Patiniotis, E. Nikolaidis, M. Rentetzi, R. Hugengruber and A. Reichenberger. Special thanks also to our colleague G. Panoutsopoulos for his helpful comments and the constant encouragement and support.

35

We believe that a further research based on interviews is necessary to give prominence to the experience-based expertise that feminist groups brought out in the public sphere.

196

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

Bibliography Autonomous Groups of Women in Metapolitefsi, Greek Parliament (Αυτόνομες ομάδες γυναικών της Μεταπολίτευσης). http://foundation.parliament.gr/VoulhFoundation/VoulhFoundation Portal/images/site_content/voulhFoundation/file/Ektheseis/Feminismos/3/4_Aftonomes%20o mades%20combo%20small.pdf. Accessed 3 April 2019. Bensaude-Vincent, B. (2001). A genealogy of the increasing gap between science and the public. Public Understanding of Science, 10(1), 99–113. Bensaude-Vincent, B. (2009). A historical perspective on science and its “others.” Isis, 10(2), 359–368. Broks, P. (2006). Understanding popular science. Open University Press. Brown, P., Zavestoski, S., McCormick, S., Mayer, B., Morello-Frosch, R., & Gasior Altman, R. (2004). Embodied health movements: New approaches to social movements in health. Sociology of Health & Illness, 26, 50–80. Brown, P., & Zavestoski, S. (2004). Social movements in health: An introduction. Sociology of Health & Illness, 26, 679–694. Bucchi, M., & Trench, B. (Eds.). (2014). Routledge handbook of public communication of science and technology. Routledge Taylor and Francis Group. Collins, H. M., & Evans, R. (2002). The third wave of science studies: Studies of expertise and experience. Social Studies of Science, 32(2), 235–296. Fontes da Costa, P. (2009). Women and the popularisation of Botany in early nineteenth-century Portugal: The Marquesa de Alorna’s Botanical Recreations. In F. Papanelopoulou, A. NietoGalan, & E. L. Perdiguero (Eds.), Popularisation of science and technology in the European periphery, 1800–2000 (pp. 43–63). Ashgate. Gieryn, T. F. (1983). Boundary-work and the demarcation of science from non-science: Strains and interests in professional ideologies of scientists. American Sociological Review, 48(6), 781–795. Govoni, P. (2009). The historiography of science popularization: Reflections inspired by the Italian case. In F. Papanelopoulou, A. Nieto-Galan, & E. L. Perdiguero (Eds.), Popularisation of science and technology in the European periphery, 1800–2000 (pp. 21–42). Ashgate. Joffe, C., Weitz, T., & Stacey, C. (2004). Uneasy allies: Pro-choice physicians, feminist health activists and the struggle for abortion rights. Sociology of Health & Illness, 26, 775–796. Keim, W. (2014). Conceptualizing circulation of knowledge in the social sciences. In W. Keim, E. Çelik, C. Ersche, & V. Wöhrer (Eds.), Global knowledge in the social sciences. Made in circulation (pp. 87–11). Ashgate. Law. (1609/1986). (FEK 86/A/3-07-1986), National Printing House (Νόμος 1609/1986, ΦΕΚ 86/A/3-07-1986, Τεχνητή διακοπή της εγκυμοσύνης και προστασίας της γυναίκας και άλλες διατάξεις). http://www.et.gr/idocs-nph/search/pdfViewerForm.html?args=5C7QrtC22wEjGnb AWBkpTXdtvSoClrL879lgF_jwvvXtIl9LGdkF53UIxsx942CdyqxSQYNuqAGCF0IfB9HI 6qSYtMQEkEHLwnFqmgJSA5WIsluV-nRwO1oKqSe4BlOTSpEWYhszF8P8UqWb_zFij O4aLIzg2v-Vo_xdVMs69IEWCigjURWIojinOZOrCQK6. Accessed 3 April 2019. McCormick, S., Brown, P., & Zavestoski, S. (2003). The personal is scientific, the scientific is political: The public paradigm of the environmental breast cancer movement. Sociological Forum, 18(4), 545–576. Östling, J., Sandmo, E., Larsson, H., Nilsson Hammar, D., Nordber, A., & Kari, H. (Eds.). (2018). Circulation of knowledge: Explorations in the history of knowledge. Nordic Academic Press. Renn, J. (2015). From the history of science to the history of knowledge—And back. Centaurus, 57, 37–53. Secord, J. (2004). Knowledge in transit. Isis: A Journal of the History of Science, 95, 654–672. Sismondo, S. (2016). An introduction to science and technology studies (V. Spiropoulou, Trans.), M. Patiniotis (Ed.). Liberal Books. Star, S. L., & Griesemer, J. R. (1989). Institutional ecology, ‘translations’ and boundary objects: Amateurs and professionals in Berkeley’s Museum of Vertebrate Zoology, 1907–39. Social Studies of Science, 19(3), 387–420.

12 Reclaiming Our Health: Greek Feminist Birth Control Movements …

197

Topham, J. R. (Ed.). (2009a). Focus: Historicizing popular science. Isis, 100, 310–368. Topham, J. R. (2009b). Rethinking the history of science popularization/popular science. In F. Papanelopoulou, A. Nieto-Galan, & E. L. Perdiguero (Eds.), Popularization of science and technology in the European periphery, 1800–2000 (pp. 1–20). Ashgate. von Oertzen, C., Rentetzi, M., & Watkins, E. (2013). Finding science in surprising places: Gender and the geography of scientific knowledge, introduction to ‘beyond the academy: Histories of gender and knowledge.’ Centaurus, 55, 73–80.

Archives Avgi. (1986, April 29) and (1986, April 25). [Newspaper] (Εφημερίδα Αυγή). [Unknown Author (29/04/1986). Voules kratounton (Βουλές Κρατούντων) & A Ps (25/04/1986). Demonstration for abortions. New committee instead of solutions (Μαχητική πορεία για τις αμβλώσεις. Νέα επιτροπή αντί για λύσεις)]. Campaign regarding the right for abortion and contraception. (December 1983, Autonomous Women’s Movement). [Proclamation] (Καμπάνια για το δικαίωμα στην έκτρωση και στην αντισύλληψη). Contraceptive Methods. (unknown date). [Brochure] (Αντισυλληπτικές Μέθοδοι). Translation of the brochure by the Commission for the Sanitary Information of the Swedish Social Welfare Directorate (Contraceptive Methods). Digital Database of Gender and Equality Studies of Panteion University (Greece) CD with educational material: “Feminist conceptualization and action in Greece: 1974–1984. https://www. gender.panteion.gr/gr/indexvasi84.php#biblio. Accessed 3 April 2019. The current research presented the following archives from this collection. Dini Feminist Magazine. (1986, December), 1 (Δίνη Φεμινιστικό Περιοδικό). [Avdela E, Papagiannaki, M., & Sklaveniti, K. (1986). Abortion 1976–1986. The chronicles of a claim (Αβδελά Ε, Παπαγιαννάκη Μ & Σκλαβενίτη Κ, Έκτρωση 1976–1986. Το χρονικό μιας διεκδίκησης) Dini: (1)4–29]. Ethnos. (1985, January 26). [Newspaper] (Εφημερίδα Έθνος). [Unknown Author (26/01/1985). “Here and now” legal abortions (“Εδώ και τώρα” νόμιμες αμβλώσεις)]. Gaia House of Women in Thessaloniki. (March 1985, Thessaloniki). [Magazine] (Γαία Σπίτι Γυναικών Θεσσαλονίκης). Kathimerini. (1986, April 24). [Newspaper] (Εφημερίδα Καθημερινή). [Unknown Author (24/4/ 1986). Demonstration against abortions and conflicts with feminists (Συγκέντρωση κατά των αμβλώσεων και επεισόδια με αντιφρονούσες)]. Kondili, M. (1980). Tortula de Ruggiero: De mulierum passionibus. Skoupa, (4), 3–7. Lampsa, R. (unknown date). Abortion a hot problem of women (Ρ Λαμψά, Έκτρωση ένα καυτό πρόβλημα για τις γυναίκες). League for Women’s Right. (unknown date). [Brochure] (Σύνδεσμος για τα δικαιώματα των γυναικών). Library on Gender and Equality (Greece). Digital Archives provided after requesting material for abortion and contraception (30/05/2018). The current research presented the following archives from this collection. Mitra 2. (2005). A conversation with G.: “Women’s bookstore and women’s movements in Greece”, No Woman’s Land (Μήτρα 2η αναπαραγωγής ιδεών για την αθέατη πλευρά του ανταγωνισμού, Μια συζήτηση με την Γ.: Το βιβλιοπωλείο των Γυναικών και το γυναικείο κίνημα στην Ελλάδα, No Woman’s Land), pp. 1–24. Mesimvrini. (1985, January 26) [Newspaper] (Εφημερίδα Μεσημβρινή). [Pappa K (26/1/1985). Research for the laws regarding abortion (Ρεπορτάζ για την νομοθεσία των αμβλώσεων)]. Movement of Women regarding Abortions. (unknown date). [Proclamation] (Κίνηση Γυναικών για τις αμβλώσεις).

198

E. Chordaki and A. Lazopoulou

Movement of Democratic Women of Koukaki and Autonomous group of Koukaki. (unknown date). [Proclamation] (Κίνηση Δημοκρατικών Γυναικών Τμήματος Κουκακίου και Αυτόνομη Ομάδα Κουκακίου). Nea. (1984, January 26). [Newspaper] (Εφημερίδα Τα Νέα). [Alimboutaki G (26/1/1984). “Free abortions” (Ελεύθερες Αμβλώσεις)]. Public Statement signed by 459 women who had had abortions. (1983). (Δημόσια δήλωση γυναικών που έχουν υποβληθεί σε έκτρωση). Skoupa for the Women. (1980, July), 4 [Magazine] (Σκούπα Για το γυναικείο ζήτημα). Skoupa for the Women. (December 1979–July 1981), 1–3, 5 [Magazine] (Σκούπα Για το γυναικείο ζήτημα). We as women. (1986). [Poster] (Εμείς οι γυναίκες). We own our body: Free abortion and contraception. (unknown date). [Poster] (Το σώμα μας μας ανήκει: Ελεύθερη έκτρωση και αντισύλληψη). Women’s Bookstore. (unknown date, unsigned). [Poster] (Βιβλιοπωλείο των γυναικών). Women of Democratic Movement. (1985). [Proclamation] (Κίνηση Δημοκρατικών Γυναικών).

Evangelia Chordaki is a PostDoc Researcher at the Seeger Center for Hellenic Studies at Princeton University and a research associate at the National Hellenic Research Foundation. She holds a Ph.D. in Science Communication and Gender Studies (Hellenic Open University, 2022). She holds a BA in History and Philosophy of Science (University of Athens) and a MSc in History and Philosophy of Science and Technology (University of Athens/National Technical University of Athens). Antigoni Lazopoulou holds a Diploma in Mechanical Engineering from the National Technical University of Athens. She has also completed the Masters Program in History and Philosophy of Science at the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens and the National Technical University of Athens.