Online research in philosophy

This piece explores the background to writing Sartre, Self-Formation and Masculinities and explains the theoretical tools used in the book before examining some of the issues raised by Bergoffen and Flynn in their critical review-articles and responding to these. It provides a more fully fledged account of Sartre's relationship with psychoanalysis and states how the book combines psychology and biography through a masculinity-aware lens. Both commentators stimulate interesting insights into my own essay, and open up new avenues which I sketch out. The piece ends with a defence of the controversial question of Sartre changing towards the end of his life.

How best to introduce philosophical ideas? Is the best and only way by studying the history of philosophy and its rational arguments and discussions? But can literature, usually hived off from philosophy, be used instead and can this be as effective as rational argument? This paper explores these questions. First it considers a text which introduces philosophy through the analysis of literature, in particular James Joyce's 'Araby', arguing that the traditional analytic approach employed by the text, by concentrating on epistemology, obscures other philosophical insights offered by Joyce. It then turns to French philosophy and literature and suggests that Sartre, Beauvoir and Camus by 'blurring' the analytic distinction between philosophy and literature have much to offer to the grasping and understanding of philosophical ideas and principles.

Despite Sartre's almost proverbial rejection of Freudian psychoanalysis, Jean-Pierre Boulé places the philosopher himself on the couch in a wonderfully detailed and suggestive work. He notes that the fruit of his study may well be "to help us gain a better understanding of Sartre as an embodied sexual being and possibly demonstrate a new way of connecting biography with oeuvre." After analyzing Boulé's argument and considering the psychoanalytic method itself, I address this last claim about relating Sartre's biography and oeuvre, especially in view of the integral role assigned biography in any existentialist theory of history.

This paper lays the groundwork for formulating an approach to literature which pushes Foucault’s thought in directions which he perhaps envisaged, but never pursued. However, one of the major obstacles to formulating a Foucauldian philosophy of literature is the fact that Foucault’s thought itself turned away from literature in the late 1960s. Why does literature apparently disappear from Foucault’s writings after 1969? And why does Foucault’s own re-writing of his theoretical biography elide this earlier interest in literature? In order to answer these questions we will have to find out what role literature played in his early thought. What is at stake here, is not just a better understanding of Foucault’s thought, but more importantly, the possibility of reviving one of the potential lines of flight which that thought cut short as a result of its own endless turning. Hence, my ultimate aim will be to address the question of what can be reclaimed today from Foucault’s abandoned engagement with literature.

This is the first book-length attempt to find the answer, by one author, since Sartre in his 1948 book with the same title.

Merleau-Ponty's essay "Indirect Language and the Voices of Silence" is not thoroughly political in its content, nor is it solely addressed to Sartre. It is dedicated to Sartre, however, and the ideas it contains pose a definite challenge to Sartre's views in What is Literature? Merleau-Ponty rejected Sartre's view of communication arising from the direct transmission of meaning through prose. Instead, he stressed that real political significance is implicated in artistic expression, even if it is in some ways ambiguous. Although it would be difficult to say that Sartre changed his views in direct response to "Indirect Language and the Voices of Silence," his later views do fall in line with Merleau-Ponty's thoughts. One might say that, by taking a Merleau-Pontian view of language, Sartre worked out some of the tensions in his earlier views. Consequently, he ended up with a much richer view of literature, yet one that retained the political significance he wanted in What is Literature?

This new edition of "What is Literature?" also collects three other crucial essays of Sartre's for the first time in a volume of his.

Gibson’s exploration of literature in this ambitious work positions itself as a response to Jean-Paul Sartre’s series of essays published as What is Literature? in 1947. Gibson claims that the nature of literature is not, as Sartre asserts, ‘finite and particular’ but rather a ‘series of infinite qualities’ (479). He explains that literature opens up meaning continually and in surprising ways. The concept of surprise is fundamental to Gibson’s contention that literature is ‘counter-intuitive’. Thus the main thesis of the book is contained in Gibson’s assertion that ‘great literature directs attention to new ways of seeing’ (19). This statement could be just as usefully applied to Gibson’s own book. In it he proposes a myriad of positions from which to consider the infinite and surprising nature of literature.