Elizabeth M. O'Brien Elizabeth M. O'Brien

Love’s Knowledge by Martha Nussbaum - A Community Response

In February 2022 the Reading Network came together to discuss excerpts from Love’s Knowledge by Martha Nussbaum. A fresh approach to introducing the book and coming up with opening questions/provocations was taken, with a different member contributing their take on each chapter. No expectations or structure were communicated beyond the expectation of a single question. Below you can find the generous and thoughtful responses of the community.

Chapter 5

Moral communication, moral imagination, and love are tied to the singularity of others. To what extent does an attention to singularity complicate and/or complement pedagogical approaches otherwise committed to social transformation/change?

Chapter 9

Do we agree with Martha Nussbaum that ethical literary criticism gives a fuller appreciation of Reading for Life than philosophical criticism, and if so, why?

https://jennymackness.wordpress.com/2022/02/06/reading-for-life-martha-nussbaum/

Chapter 11

Chapter 11 contrasts three ways of thinking about how we can come to know the contents of our heart (i.e. an aspect of self-knowledge, the main example being whether we love someone). Nussbaum argues, largely through literary examples, that this kind of self-knowledge involves attention to our emotions, but that reflection also plays a role. Further, love itself—in the form of a contextual and relational trust—helps us obtain this kind of knowing. Assuming that education should help students better know themselves, what role(s) can literature and/or philosophy play in this process? What conceptions of the emotions and the intellect might hamper/help in this regard?

Chapter 12

As plants or animals sometimes fight over the territory essential to their subsistence and their growth, humans fight over the cultural universe that they have constructed when they have not succeeded in inhabiting themselves and coexisting as living beings. They struggle for their survival through cultural substitutes because they have not created, amongst themselves, links that can provide them with an additional life rather than a death threat. (Irigaray, 2015, p. 105)

One thing that becomes very clear, as we read these novels, is that we are hearing, in the end, but a single human voice, not the conversation of diverse human voices with diverse structures of feelings. Beckett emphasises this fact by identifying Moran with the author of this other novels. And the solipsism of this voice’s sense of life is so total that we get no sense of the distinctive shape of any other lives in this world. An implicit claim is made by these voices to be the whole world, to be telling the way the world is as they tell about themselves. But is there any reason to suppose that this one life is, in that way, representative? (p. 308)

Along with an absence of human diversity, we find in Beckett, as well, an absence of human activity that seems foreign to our experience of emotional development, even at the cultural and social level. Beckett’s people are heirs of a legacy of feeling that shapes them inexorably. They cannot help being shaped in this way, and they feel like “contrivances,” like machines programmed entirely from without: “You think you are inventing, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten” (p. 31). They are made, and the only thing they make is a child in their own image. This is not a convincing picture either of an individual child’s development or of a society’s evolution. Children actively select and interpret; and the society around them contains a plurality of active voices, striving to persuade us in new directions.  (Pp. 308-9)

It is as if Beckett believes that the finite and frail can only inspire our disgust and loathing—that life…can be “a thing of beauty and a joy” only if it is “forever”…[M]ortality in Beckett’s world is seen not as our neutral and natural condition but as our punishment for original sin. (p. 309)

But, we might ask, why is it that these voices are so intolerant of society and of shared forms of thought and feeling? Why aren’t they willing to allow that common-to-all might be and say themselves? Isn’t it, really, because they are in the grip of a longing for the pure soul, hard as a diamond, individual and indivisible, coming forth from its maker’s hand with its identity already stamped upon it? Don’t they reject shared language because they long for a pure language of the soul itself by itself and for pure relationships among souls that will be in no way mediated by the contingent structures of human social life? Everywhere the voices turn, they find the group and its history. They cannot go beyond that. But this is a tragedy for them only because they are gripped by the conviction that nothing man-made and contingent could ever stand for them. (p. 310)

Provocation:

Reading Nussbaum’s reading of Beckett and the excerpt from Irigaray’s 2015 essay through one another, (and bearing in mind that Beckett was born at the turn of the century and began to publish his literary works in 1930s) what are your thoughts on relation, life, and education?

Perhaps some of the following (binary) pairs would provide some ideas on where to start:

Inhaling and exhaling/life and death/children and adults/active moulding and letting it be/nature and nurture

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Elizabeth M. O'Brien Elizabeth M. O'Brien

What is the Reading Network to you?

It all begins with an idea.

Sharon Smith shares her experience of the Reading Network.

During my Education Studies undergraduate degree, one of my favourite times of the week was the three hour period in between lectures where I would meet up with a friend or two. We used this time to discuss the modules we were studying and the philosophers or theorists that we were being introduced to. We saw this as a space outside of the confines of assessment criteria, which afforded us the opportunity to understand alternative perspectives and to practice and try out our arguments or developing theories with each other. It felt important to find a space to study and learn, without there necessarily being a pre-determined learning outcome to strive for or assignment question to answer. From this point onwards, I have been committed to carving out such a space within my schedule to engage in study that is not directly linked to my current aims. In particular, I have wanted this to be a space to be where I enter into a dialogue or relation with others, so that I am not developing my work in isolation.

I have therefore welcomed the development of the Philosophy of Education Reading Network, as it provides me with the time and space to think with others – whether they are students, like myself, academics, teachers or just others interested in the text. Within the monthly zoom meetings, everyone is equal, with no assigned teacher or expert. Rather, one person is invited to open the meeting by describing why they are interested in the text and posing one or more questions to get the conversation flowing, after which the floor is open to all to discuss the text, with no defined outcome or aim for the discussion. As a result, the conversation stops and starts, with awkward pauses when nobody has a response or a point to make, or many voices speaking at the same time as they have something to say. However, this for me, is why the group is so appealing. It feels like a natural conversation, not forced or pre-prepared. There is no way to know where the conversation will go, as different links and connections are made through the different ideas presented by people with a range of perspectives and experiences that they bring to the discussion.

As I am undertaking a post-qualitative inquiry for my PhD study, it is important that I read as much theory as possible to inform my approach. There is always a danger that I read theory that supports my existing thinking, because this will be more comfortable and will not necessarily cause any disruption to my developing theory. The Reading Network, however, forces me (and I say this positively) to read a key text from a philosopher who I might not have ever thought of reading as part of my research. As a result, I am being introduced to important philosophical texts or theories and perspectives that might either support or critique my current thinking. Furthermore, the dialogue in the group provides an opportunity to test out interpretations of the texts being read, and a way of thinking with others about what it might mean for my own work.

I have attended the first two Reading Network sessions online, and have found the atmosphere of the sessions to be welcoming, friendly and supportive. It took me back to the relaxed nature of the times I would meet with my fellow undergraduate students to discuss texts, linking ideas and theories. Thank you to Elizabeth and Vicky for developing the Network, which will now be a regular feature in my diary each month.  

 

Sharon is currently undertaking PhD research at the University of Birmingham. Her research approaches the subjectivity of parents of children with Special Educational Needs and Disabilities and its impact on inclusion. She was awarded the BERA Doctoral Fellowship in 2019.

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