Cesáreo Villoria (1951), profesor jubilado de filosofía, fue docente de Filosofía y Ética en Enseñanza secundaria y Bachillerato, doctor en Filosofía con una tesis sobre la estética de Th. Adorno por la Universidad de Oviedo, ha publicado varios artículos sobre la Escuela de Francfort y la filosofía del último Ortega.;Elabora una obra sobre el problema de la historia en la filosofía alemana desde Hegel al presente.

The following conversation took place at the 2017 Colloquium on Violence and Religion in Madrid, Spain. Cesáreo Bandera and Adam Ericksen discuss Bandera's friendship with Girard, their disagreements about mimetic theory, and hope in these apocalyptic times. This is an edited version of the transcript of a recoded interview. You can watch the video recording at The Raven Review at ravenfoundation.org.We are in your home country.Yes. In my home country. I am from the south, from Malaga. Malaga is straight south (...) from Madrid on the coast, right across the Mediterranean from Africa. I was born there but grew up in other parts of southern Spain. Like Cordoba and Sevilla where I went to the law school, to get a law... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Separating the Human from the Divine Cesáreo Bandera University ofNorth Carolina at Chapel Hill Myths are hard to die. One such myth concerns what happened with poetry in general, that is to say, imaginative literature or literary fiction, in the transition from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance and beyond. Its basic outline was developed during the nineteenth century. J. E. Spingarn, for example, echoes such a myth in (...) his History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance, first published in 1899, which has gone through many editions and reprintings since then. In it we read the following: The first problem of Renaissance criticism was the justification of imaginative literature. The existence and continuity of the aesthetic consciousness, and perhaps, in a less degree, of the critical faculty, throughout the Middle Ages, can hardly be denied; yet distrust of literature was keenest among the very class of men in whom the critical faculty might be presupposed, and it was as the handmaid of philosophy, and most of all as the vassal of theology, that poetry was chiefly valued.... The Renaissance was thus confronted with the necessity ofjustifying its appreciation of the vast body of literature which the Revival of Learning had recovered for the modern world. (3) Speaking of Savonarola's De Divisione ac Utilititate Omnium Scientiarum, written about 1492, he concludes as follows: In fine, as a reformer, he represents for us the religious reaction against the paganization of culture by the humanists. But the forces against him were too strong. Even the Christianization of culture effected during the next century by the Council of Trent was hardly more than temporary. Humanism, which represents 74Cesáreo Bandera the revival of ancient pagan culture, and rationalism, which represents the growth of the modem spirit in science and art, were currents too powerful to be impeded by any reformer, however great. (14) This general picture of the historical standing and the fate of literary fiction as we move from the Middle Ages into the modern era, is still very much with us, even though it is ill at ease with, or flatly contradicted by, undeniable historical facts. For example, the incredible notion of a "paganization of culture by the humanists" would have horrified somebody as profoundly Christian as Petrarch and, later on, Erasmus, who criticized the scholastics "in the name of a purer and simpler mode of piety and religious devotion" (Mazzeo 17). Or the mistaken idea that modern rationalism was much more hospitable to poetry than the old scholastic one. For from the seventeenth century on, as J. F. West has pointed out, the whole tide of [scientific] opinion was running strongly against poetry, metaphor, and poetic prose. The philosophers generally saw them as an obstacle to truth. Hobbes regarded metaphor as one of the hindrances to straight thinking. Rousseau thought that the philosophy of Descartes had 'cut the throat of poetry'; and John Locke, late in the century, openly regarded poetry as made up of 'pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy,' but basically misleading. (114) It is indeed true that in medieval scholasticism poetry occupies the lowest rank in the hierarchical structure of the arts and sciences. But it does have a place there. It would have never occurred to Thomas Aquinas, for example, to expel it from that position as something dangerous, something to be avoided. In fact, as he tells us at the beginning of the Summa Theologica, theology itself, the highest of the sciences, does not consider it below its dignity to make use of metaphor and other poetic devices propter utilitatem ac necessitatem. And yet it is precisely that kind of violent expulsion ofpoetic fiction that will be attempted during the Renaissance. In the words of Russell Fraser, "it is in the Renaissance, and not the Middle Ages that the artist is driven from the commonwealth" (39). It was then that the "war against poetry" intensified to fever pitch. It is, therefore, an error to imagine that those in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries who bitterly attacked poetic fiction in general and the theater in particular as a very dangerous threat to religion and morality, were fanatic hold-overs from a medieval past... (shrink)

A sociologist who has to confront him/herself with social change cannot avoid running into subjectivity, which is seen as a clear indicator of the most recent tendencies that are going through contemporary society. The demand for subjectivity, generically considered as self-consciousness and the need for self-fulfilment, is undoubtedly a distinguishing feature of our age. The central role this concept has gained within recent sociological literature, however, coincides with the rise of a postmodern sociology, which tends to put forward a precise (...) image of subjectivity that I would call ?minimalist.? Through its call for subjectivity, postmodern sociology intends to celebrate indeed a radical freeing from the ethical, social, and relational constraints that would have oppressed human beings during modernity, which was characterized by a high degree of sociocentrism. Although I share all the contentions that aim at underlining the positive achievements of subjectivity over the constrictions and the de-personalizing forces that distressed the so-called homo sociologicus, I think we need nonetheless to distance ourselves from this new reductionism, which levels out subjectivity to its postmodern conception, and to underline instead the existence of a dual aspect in contemporary subjectivity. As a matter of fact, along with its minimalist and disengaged aspect, conceptualized in the homo psychologicus, another possible expression, called ?significant subjectivity? is emerging, which is a typical feature of the kind of human I propose to define civicus, a human who distinguishes him/herself because of the ability to become the bearer of an authentic form of responsible freedom. Consequently, we can identify two different aspects, at least, in contemporary subjectivity, notably a minimalist and a significant aspect. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Separating the Human from the Divine Cesáreo Bandera University ofNorth Carolina at Chapel Hill Myths are hard to die. One such myth concerns what happened with poetry in general, that is to say, imaginative literature or literary fiction, in the transition from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance and beyond. Its basic outline was developed during the nineteenth century. J. E. Spingarn, for example, echoes such a myth in (...) his History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance, first published in 1899, which has gone through many editions and reprintings since then. In it we read the following: The first problem of Renaissance criticism was the justification of imaginative literature. The existence and continuity of the aesthetic consciousness, and perhaps, in a less degree, of the critical faculty, throughout the Middle Ages, can hardly be denied; yet distrust of literature was keenest among the very class of men in whom the critical faculty might be presupposed, and it was as the handmaid of philosophy, and most of all as the vassal of theology, that poetry was chiefly valued.... The Renaissance was thus confronted with the necessity ofjustifying its appreciation of the vast body of literature which the Revival of Learning had recovered for the modern world. (3) Speaking of Savonarola's De Divisione ac Utilititate Omnium Scientiarum, written about 1492, he concludes as follows: In fine, as a reformer, he represents for us the religious reaction against the paganization of culture by the humanists. But the forces against him were too strong. Even the Christianization of culture effected during the next century by the Council of Trent was hardly more than temporary. Humanism, which represents 74Cesáreo Bandera the revival of ancient pagan culture, and rationalism, which represents the growth of the modem spirit in science and art, were currents too powerful to be impeded by any reformer, however great. (14) This general picture of the historical standing and the fate of literary fiction as we move from the Middle Ages into the modern era, is still very much with us, even though it is ill at ease with, or flatly contradicted by, undeniable historical facts. For example, the incredible notion of a "paganization of culture by the humanists" would have horrified somebody as profoundly Christian as Petrarch and, later on, Erasmus, who criticized the scholastics "in the name of a purer and simpler mode of piety and religious devotion" (Mazzeo 17). Or the mistaken idea that modern rationalism was much more hospitable to poetry than the old scholastic one. For from the seventeenth century on, as J. F. West has pointed out, the whole tide of [scientific] opinion was running strongly against poetry, metaphor, and poetic prose. The philosophers generally saw them as an obstacle to truth. Hobbes regarded metaphor as one of the hindrances to straight thinking. Rousseau thought that the philosophy of Descartes had 'cut the throat of poetry'; and John Locke, late in the century, openly regarded poetry as made up of 'pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy,' but basically misleading. (114) It is indeed true that in medieval scholasticism poetry occupies the lowest rank in the hierarchical structure of the arts and sciences. But it does have a place there. It would have never occurred to Thomas Aquinas, for example, to expel it from that position as something dangerous, something to be avoided. In fact, as he tells us at the beginning of the Summa Theologica, theology itself, the highest of the sciences, does not consider it below its dignity to make use of metaphor and other poetic devices propter utilitatem ac necessitatem. And yet it is precisely that kind of violent expulsion ofpoetic fiction that will be attempted during the Renaissance. In the words of Russell Fraser, "it is in the Renaissance, and not the Middle Ages that the artist is driven from the commonwealth" (39). It was then that the "war against poetry" intensified to fever pitch. It is, therefore, an error to imagine that those in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries who bitterly attacked poetic fiction in general and the theater in particular as a very dangerous threat to religion and morality, were fanatic hold-overs from a medieval past... (shrink)

These are the very last words of Eumolpus' testament. The editors all print them thus, but I suspect a hidden corruption in devoverint. The text may seem to have an acceptable meaning, but only on a superficial reading inattentive to the whole context. A certain exegetical discomfort becomes noticeable if the translations are compared: Ernout renders ‘maudire mon âme’, Ehlers in Müller's second and third editions translates ‘sie meinen letzten Atemzug herbeiwünschten’ , and Cesareo- Terzaghi's edition prefers to render with (...) a nuance of the future ‘con quel cuore stesso con cui mi avranno maledetto l'anima’. Obviously, devovere is being understood as synonymous with exsecrari. This is an attested secondary meaning, ‘curse’, ‘execrate’, which developed from the technical religious one connected with the ritual of devotio. According to this interpretation, the captatores cursed the fact that Eumolpus, apparently a sick man on the verge of death, continued to live longer than they could reasonably have expected when they began to court him. But the expression does not seem adequate for conveying this meaning: instead, we would expect something like vitam meam devoverint or me et caput meum devoverint or, better, me ad mortem devoverint, or similarly explicit expressions. (shrink)

For about a hundred years there has been an intermittent but sometimes vigorous debate1 on the question whether Quintus Smyrnaeus and Tryphiodorus directly used the Second Aeneid as a source for their epic descriptions “of the capture and destruction of Troy. Heyne thought that they did not; but towards the end of the nineteenth century it appeared more likely that they did. Heinze opposed the general belief: but it was reaffirmed for Quintus by Paschal and Becker4 and for Tryphiodorus by (...) Dr. E. Cesareo on internal evidence. Meanwhile Professor Samuel E. Bassett had concluded that Quintus was not after all dependent on Vergil: and still more recently Dr. J. W. Mackail, reviewing Cesareo's monograph, has maintained with emphasis that the Aeneid is certainly not the source of the late epic. Accordingly the controversy cannot even now be considered closed. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE ONTOLOGICAL OBSESSIONS OF RADICAL THOUGHT1 Stephen Gardner University ofTulsa Rather than make an inventory ofthis hodgepodge ofdead ideas, we should take as our starting point the passions that fueled it. François Furet (4) Any synthesis is incomplete which ends in an object or an abstract concept and not a living relationship between two individuals. René Girard (Deceit 178) Karl Marx offers two observations which I take as the (...) point of departure for a critique ofthe anti-liberal historicism in thinkers like Martin Heidegger, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Marx himself. The first is that the modern project of emancipation presupposes that "man is the supreme being for man," and the second is that modern equality gives rise to its own type of relations of /«equality, indeed of "master and slave." I will not interpret these observations as Marx himself did, in economic terms. Instead, I use them as clues to uncover the kind of human relation implicit in but also hidden by the ontology of freedom on which radical historicism rests. By ontology offreedom, I mean the view that "being" is historical and grounded in radical freedom or contingency. For this theory, history is a process ofcreation ex nihilo, a power traditionally reserved for God. Such atheory is advanced in different forms by Heidegger, Nietzsche, ' I thank the Earhart Foundation and the University ofTulsa for their support for the project of which this is a part. I also thank Jim Williams and Jake Howland their comments. 2 The Ontologica! Obsessions ofRadical Thought and Marx, as the key to a radical critique of bourgeois society. Thus the ontological obsessions ofanti-bourgeois ire. I suggest that the fascination ofthe radical critique ofbourgeois society with historical "being" reflects the transformation of human relations by "equality of conditions," in the sense of Alexis de Tocqueville, the French sociologist and student ofthe democratic soul.2 As modern equality subverts the old orthodoxies, human beings tend to seek their gods in each other, as models of "freedom." And so there arises a "master-slave" psychology from the impact of equality, legitimized by romanticism and the modern cult ofEros. This, I suspect, is the effectual truth offreedom in Heidegger, Nietzsche, and Marx.3 René Girard offers a classic description of this psychology in his analysis ofthe modern novel, Deceit, Desire, and the Novel, to which I am indebted throughout this paper. As regards that book, my general thesis—applicable not only to Marx but also to Heidegger and Nietzsche—may be stated as follows.4 Girard's analysis of the literary characters Don Quixote, Julien Sorel, Emma Bovary, Raskolnikov, and others is in effect a devastating if indirect critique of modem radical thought, or the pursuit ofradical freedom. Modern novels, he argues, tend to divide into two types: either "romantic" or "romanesque." The latter reveal the romantic illusions of the modern psyche, rather than merely reflect them like the former. "Romanesque" novelists such as Cervantes, Stendhal, Flaubert, Dostoevsky, and Proust are great because they uncover the human relations behind romantic passions and the theories that legitimate them. The "romanesque" novel is a Socratic labor of selfknowledge in which the author emancipates himself from his own past romantic illusions. In effect, it exposes the fictions associated with the modern novel itself. The "romantic" novel, to the contrary, abandons self2 By "equality of conditions" is meant the de-legitimation of accidents of birth such as aristocratic lineage (or today race, gender, or ethnicity) as limits on one's social ambition or destiny. It is equivalent to the rise of vocational choice. 3 For a development of this theme in the context of early modern thought (Descartes to Hegel) as an indirect critique of the radical critics from Marx to Heidegger and after, see Stephen Gardner, Myths of Freedom- Equality, Modern Thought, and Philosophical Radicalism. 4 Cesareo Bandera, in The Sacred Game The Role ofthe Sacred in the Genesis ofModern Literary Fiction, also makes a "mimetic" critique of Marx, stressing his work as seeking to restore a sacrificial mythology as the bond ofsociety, an attempt at the basis oftotalitarianism (see his Appendix). The Ontologica! Obsessions ofRadical Thought3 knowledge for the platonic pursuit of "authentic being."5 It offers us "romantic... (shrink)

For about a hundred years there has been an intermittent but sometimes vigorous debate1 on the question whether Quintus Smyrnaeus and Tryphiodorus directly used the Second Aeneid as a source for their epic descriptions “of the capture and destruction of Troy. Heyne thought that they did not; but towards the end of the nineteenth century it appeared more likely that they did. Heinze opposed the general belief: but it was reaffirmed for Quintus by Paschal and Becker4 and for Tryphiodorus by (...) Dr. E. Cesareo on internal evidence. Meanwhile Professor Samuel E. Bassett had concluded that Quintus was not after all dependent on Vergil: and still more recently Dr. J. W. Mackail, reviewing Cesareo's monograph, has maintained with emphasis that the Aeneid is certainly not the source of the late epic. Accordingly the controversy cannot even now be considered closed. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Sacred Game: The Role of the Sacred in the Genesis of Modern Literary FictionAndrew J. McKennaThe Sacred Game: The Role of the Sacred in the Genesis of Modern Literary Fiction, by Cesareo Bandera; 318 pp. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994, $16.50.When we consider the early relations of philosophy and literature, we most often think of Republic X and about degrees of separation between reality and (...) its image. That is a mistake, according to Cesareo Bandera, who shows in his deft reading of Laws that Plato expelled the poets chiefly because of their threat to the difference between sacred and profane: their mournful harmoniae polluted sacred rites. In this Plato is closer to the religious world examined by Durkheim, where the absolute difference between sacred and profane alone guarantees all other differences. Aristotle is shown to be starkly misleading here, since his Poetics discuss tragedy as if it had nothing to do with the ritual practices in which it originates. His vaunted realism can only save poetry—and ontological appearances—by ignoring, by virtually expelling the sacred from its purview.This expulsion of the sacred from the horizon of our rationality is the thematic core of Bandera’s argument about modern literary fiction as it [End Page 189] emerges in the Renaissance. He does not bring the religious back to our attention to enthrall us with it anew, but to explain via formidable literary and historical scholarship how we stand with respect to it, and how we misunderstand our enlightened disrespect for it. Our modern scientific spirit, our really amazing freedom of inquiry, has a different genealogy than we commonly suppose.It is not primarily philosophy which grounds our humanist irreverence, but our Western religious tradition, which Bandera reads, along with René Girard, Roberto Calasso, and Marcel Gauchet, as a uniquely desacralizing agency in culture. His book’s central endeavor is to expand the implications of Girard’s sacrificial theory of social formation across close readings of ancient and Renaissance literature and criticism in order to show the constraints on rationality within a culture where the sacred veiled human violence. According to this view, that veil is rent irreparably with the revelation of the innocent victim as the vantage point from which to interpret the murderous fury of the crowd, however ritualized as awe for the god(s), or as art. A stunning analysis of Virgil (with an assist from Michel Serres’s reading of Lucretius) reveals a writer holding back from his appalled understanding of violent foundations. With the Renaissance, art is cannily deritualized; not pious Aeneas, born of a goddess, but Don Quixote, born in prison, sets the course for modern fiction.Bandera’s astute readings of Renaissance literature and criticism shed decisively new light on the significance of this axial period, poised at the fulcrum of his argument. His vast and probing research reminds us how modern literary fiction nourished its self-consciousness and freedom amidst lavish and vehement debate over mixing the human and divine. Stripped of the taboos limiting classical thought, the sacred’s monopoly on violence had eroded to reveal individual culpability—but also vast, new possibilities for thought and action. A clear ethical impulse accompanies these readings, in which Calderon and Cervantes are shown to deprive us of a sacred alibi for human violence, which is now a matter for me to resolve with my neighbor. Organically cultural imperatives lose ground to a sense of individual responsibility, which Bandera traces back to the historically documented ascendancy of devotio moderna in late medieval Europe.Despite and because of debates over its cultural role, Renaissance literature’s very marginality freed it to explore every dimension of human error. And we learn how those who unwittingly conspire to resacralize it, from Tasso and Shelley through Arnold and Frye, only continue to play the sacred game that caused shudders in Plato and inspires just plain silliness among our own critical anarchs and demystifyers.Bandera’s net is cast wide and deep, including a bracing debate with Milbank and Blumenberg, whose sweep he emulates successfully, and whose powerful analyses he corrects. Witty and adroit scrutiny of our “sacred allergy” extends... (shrink)