Abstract

With this study of the phenomenological idealism of Husserl, in all of its dimensions and phases, Giorgio Baratta places himself within the ranks of a new type of student of Husserlian phenomenology. Representatives of this type are R. Boehm, I. Kern, and L. Kelkel among others. They do not feel the need to apologize for Husserl’s conceptual awkwardness, an awkwardness that reflects growth; nor are they overafflicted by Husserl’s sin of idealism, nor embarrassed by his recourse to the bewildering realm of the transcendental. They do not need to profit from claims of close discipleship, or from iconoclastic feats; thus they are able to show us a Husserl who lived in constant struggle with the conceptual issues of his time, and who created perhaps the broadest matrix for the reconciliation of these issues. In Baratta’s work we are told of Husserl’s nationalistic speeches to the troops during World War I; of his search for the identity of Germany during the Weimar years; of his idealistic desires to influence, if only remotely and indirectly, education and politics ; of his preoccupation with the issue of the decline of the West widely discussed after the publication of Spengler’s popular work; of his personal eclipse, with many of his disciples turning away, as a consequence of his idealistic confession; and finally of the ostracism in which he lived during the Nazi years. Against this background, certainly not larger than life, we are given clear view of the major thrusts of Husserl’s effort to preserve human subjectivity and its values by placing it under the influence of classical German idealism. The Scylla and Charybdis of Husserl’s position were: 1) the propensity of his scientific objectivism to become either Platonism or psychologism; 2) the propensity of his philosophical foundation of subjectivity to turn into subjective idealism. The response to these dangers within Husserl’s own system was, on the one hand, an objective idealism in the tradition of Plato and Leibniz and, on the other hand, an honest effort to rescue creative intuition from the realm of the mundane. This surprisingly eclectic response exposed Husserl to attacks from all sides, from positivistic psychologism, from neo-Kantian operationalism and from the more extreme forms of idealism and materialism. Also, because of the vulnerability of this response, the core of Husserl’s eclecticism broke easily down into the Platonic descriptivism of the advocates of Ideenschau and the mundane ontology of the early Heidegger. In two concluding essays, which are as effortlessly insightful as the initial two, transcendental phenomenology is presented by Baratta in the context of the historical justification that Husserl gave it in his mature years. As this historical justification receives further support from an overlapping philosophy of history, phenomenology takes on some bright ideological colors. Husserl’s pages in the Crisis open up a wide panorama of philosophical responsibility: science urgently needs the influence of human goals, and humanity itself cannot remain entrapped in worldly goals without gradually reducing the life of the common man to a state of complete reification. Baratta’s work owes much to Boehm, and Kern and Kelkel, nevertheless it is a work of maturity, surely in possession of the thematic undercurrents of Husserl’s thought which themselves underlie, because of their eclecticism, all the major themes of the main schools of thought today. This work should be read as a contribution to the study of phenomenology and as a further step in our understanding of the predicament of contemporary thought.—A. M.