No. 18, A Philosophical Mission

This evening I found myself at Barnes & Noble, yet again, on a mission: a philosophical mission. While I have always admired philosophy from a safe distance, it was not until recently that I felt the urge to dive into this seemingly dangerous study of the fundamental nature of existence, reality, knowledge, and, of course, life.  Perhaps it is this blog that sparked this interest-- my attempt at seeing the world for its beauty, at appreciating and understanding what makes life, in my opinion, beautiful.

The "Philosophy" section was certainly a modest one; it consisted of two sections of the aisle, strategically--and almost ironically--placed within the "Religion," "New Age," and "Bibles" sections, which are located on the border of the children's area and the "grown-up-books."  It was obvious that the poor Philosophy section had been assigned to that area due to the sheer lack of activity in the area; I did not even know where the Philosophy section was, which should come as a shock to my family and friends who all know of the embarrassing amount of time I have spent in that store.  The aisle must have been overwhelmingly delighted to have a visitor, for the books I planned to purchase tauntingly hid themselves among the almost obnoxious number of copies of Aristotle and Machiavelli anthologies that lined the shelves with the occasional Foucault and Sartre that moaned for attention.  I was somewhat taken aback by titles such as True Blood and Philosophy, Seinfeld and Philosophy, and Mad Men and Philosophy. While I love all of these shows, I couldn't seem to understand their significance, nor could I envision anyone purchasing them for any reason other than a burning desire to add yet another item to their memorabilia.  This was not at all what I imagined when considering philosophical ideas... but then again, perhaps modern philosophy is a great deal more modern than I thought.

Sifting through the works on the shelves for a book by Alain de Botton always proves to be slightly more complicated than I expect; half the time he is listed under "D," the other half under "B," and then the "de" unfailingly causes further problems.  I wonder if this happens only in the United States, probably so. Nevertheless, I eventually found The Consolations of Philosophy, one of the two remaining reads by de Botton I had yet to purchase (the other being Status Anxiety).  Who better to turn to in my discovery and journey through philosophy than a writer I so greatly admire.  Only forty-two pages into the book and I already know it will be as great of a triumph as How Proust Can Change Your Life, which you know, from an earlier entry, has certainly changed my life, igniting a respect and passion for Marcel Proust that has served me well during these difficult weeks since my grandfather's death. De Botton utilizes the teachings of Socrates, Epicurus, Seneca the Younger, Michel de Montaigne, Arthur Schopenhauer, and Friedrich Nietzsche in order to guide the reader through "our most common problems."  Although I am familiar with these philosophers from the literature and history courses I have taken over the years, as a newcomer to philosophy, I have approached this book--as well as this study--with an open mind and the desire to start afresh, prepared to soak in the thoughts that are presented to me.
(Aside from philosophy, however, I truly must recommend any and every book written by the great Alain de Botton. I have now read all of his works with the exception of Status Anxiety and, though I am working on it, The Consolations of Philosophy, and I can honestly say that no one has challenged me--let alone inspired me--to see things from a different perspective quite like Alain de Botton.  De Botton presents his thoughts in such a special, lucid, and intelligent manner, making every book a fantastic and moving experience.)

It was hard to believe that The History of Western Philosophy (originally, A History of Western Philosophy) by Bertrand Russell was so difficult to find. Perhaps it was the summary located on the book's spine that threw me off-- how strange! Though I certainly have the desire to work my way through this immense oeuvre, I hope to have the necessary motivation to complete it after enjoying de Botton's modest and accessible interpretation of philosophy.  This collection of philosophical thought is, in a word, intimidating, totaling in 836 imageless pages. "What exactly is the reason behind his purchase?" one might ask. Well, in discovering the joint program between Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne and Paris 3 La Sorbonne Nouvelle in Philosophy with a track in Lettres Modernes, I found the seemingly perfect opportunity to begin to enrich my comprehension and appreciation of philosophy in the most perfect of settings. I became resolved to participate in this program while still quenching my thirst for art and architectural history courses as well as one or two cinema courses. Why not try something different? How could I possibly resist adding another passion to my life? And even if it does not turn out to be what I expect, there is a lesson to be learned from that experience as well, for, as Proust once said, "We do not receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us."