Susanne K. Langer: The Flood-Van Den Heuvel Correspondence, 2009-2011, now online

Gary Van Den Heuvel, circa 1984. Photo courtesy of Kell Julliard
Tony Flood, circa 2004, Weill Cornell Medicine. A Three Musketeers bar rises from his shirt pocket.

In 2009, Gary Van Den Heuvel (1948-2012), the independent scholar who abridged Susanne K. Langer’s Mind trilogy in 1988, wrote me about the Langer materials I was curating on my old site, and we corresponded about her and Langer-adjacent topics during the last two years of his life. The Netherlands-based Langer Circle recently reproduced my “Langer Portal” on their site, and only this week uploaded our correspondence. Here is their notice of both events.

You might spot a typo or two, but overall, it’s in very good shape, considering we composed it without a thought of publicizing it. Its first two pages are representative; I hope you’ll look them over to see if they don’t whet your appetite for more.

I was pleased to re-read after so many years a paragraph in my first reply to Gary that asks why a Bible-believing Christian like me would be attracted to thought of an avowedly secular thinker like Langer, who grounded human symbol-making in biology. Here it is.

My interest in Langer arose from my study of [Catholic philosopher Bernard] Lonergan , who once raved about her aesthetic theory. When about five years ago [2004?] I finally got around to absorbing every page of my old Mentor paperback copy of Philosophy in a New Key, a world of meaning opened up. That she had been one of [Alfred North] Whitehead’s first American students and an early admirer (and interpreter and translator) of [Ernst] Cassirer (neither of them influenced Lonergan) fascinated me. For help I turned to the writings of Richard Liddy, SJ (several of which I’ve posted), who had studied under Lonergan and chose Langer’s aesthetics as his dissertation topic. I have not read his dissertation (I certainly won’t do that before reading Mind), but I was struck by his ultimate rejection of Langer as a materialist—not surprising, perhaps, given his vocation, but unfair, I think. The evaluation of the effort to root man’s artistic drive in biology depends on one’s view of biology! (March 9, 2009; my italics)

Mine is that it part of the created order (Genesis 1:20-28), not the by-product of a mindless explosion and equally undirected evolution, which backdrop would open a trapdoor under every line she ever wrote. See that Langer Portal for links to some of the writings of the thinkers named in passing above, and my post, Langer Speaks!, from last week.

Susanne Langer, 1895-1985. Harvard University, Radcliffe College Archives

Thank you, Langer Circle, for giving the results of my hod-carrying from decades ago a more permanent home. The Circle’s chairperson, Adrienne Dengerink Chaplin, has written a masterly introduction of her life and thought that occupies much of my spare time these days, The Philosophy of Susanne Langer: Embodied Meaning in Logic, Art and Feeling. I wish I had this twenty years ago. (Dr. Chaplin tells me she feels the same way. (:^D).)

Happy Birthday to me!

Gary Van Den Heuvel, my friend and correspondent, circa 2011.

P.S.: Gary co-authored a scholarly yet accessible introduction to Langer’s thought with Kell Julliard, who provided both photos of Gary: Susanne K. Langer and the Foundations of Art Therapy. Art Therapy, 1999, 16(3), 112–120. https://doi.org/10.1080/07421656.1999.10129656. I’m grateful to Kell for the PDF and the pix.—Tony Flood

Langer speaks!

Delighted to stumble upon the 48-minute audio of “Susanne Langer on Man & Animal: The City & the Hive,” a 1957 lecture on YouTube—I had never heard her before—I scrambled to see whether there was a transcript of it anywhere.

UPDATE: Dr. Adrienne Dengerink Chaplin of The Langer Circle and author of The Philosophy of Susanne Langer: Embodied Meaning in Logic, Art and Feeling, a masterpiece of biography and research, sent me a better site on which the audio resides, namely, that of Cooper Union in Manhattan, where presidential candidate Lincoln delivered a key campaign speech in 1860 and where Langer delivered her lecture on October 28, 1957, and which was introduced by Jonathan E. Fairchild. There is also a link to the booklet for the 1957-1958 season’s events—a wonderful literary artifact— that attendees received, but here it is. Langer’s lecture is listed on page 4.

Well, there it was, right under my nose: I had forgotten not only that it was published the following year in The Antioch Review [TAR], but also that 17 years ago, that is, back in 2008, I had published its text on my old site by scanning the print version I had of that article and then correcting the scan.  Here is TAR’s prefatory paragraph:

Susanne K. Langer, professor of philosophy at Connecticut College [New London, CT], is well known as the author of Philosophy in a New Key, Feeling and Form, and Problems of Art.  This paper, read at the Cooper Union in New York as part of the centenary celebration of the Great Hall, offers a sketch of philosophical work in progress under a research grant received by Connecticut College from the Edgar J. Kaufmann Foundation [which underwrote her Mind trilogy].

So, you may read as you listen.

Susanne K. Langer (1895-1985) was raised in Manhattan, but her mother tongue was German, and it shows. Her command of literary English, however, which she began speaking at age four, was perfect and she deployed it gracefully to light up nearly everything human: science, art, logic, culture in many articles and books. Here’s a taste from that article:

Animals interpret signs, too, but only as pointers to actual things and events: cues to action or expectation, threats and promises, landmarks and earmarks in the world. Human beings use such signs, too; but above all they use symbols—especially words—to think and talk about things that are neither present nor expected. The words convey ideas, that may or may not have counterparts in actuality. This power of thinking about things expresses itself in language, imagination, and speculation—the chief products of human mentality that animals do not share.

Language, the most versatile and indispensable of all symbolisms, has put its stamp on all our mental functions, so that I think they always differ from even their closest analogues in animal life. Language has invaded our feeling and dreaming and action, as well as our reasoning, which is really a product of it. The greatest change wrought by language is the increased scope of awareness in speech-gifted beings. An animal’s awareness is always of things in its own place and life. In human awareness, the present, actual situation is often the least part. We have not only memories and expectations; we have a past in which we locate our memories, and a future that vastly over-reaches our own anticipations. Our past is a story, our future a piece of imagination. Likewise our ambient is a place in a wider, symbolically conceived place, the universe. We live in a world.

As I said, nearly everything. She was a deep-dyed, unabashed secularist whose focus on feeling (not emotion!) and how we variously and promiscuously symbolize it is, with a few important modifications, compatible with the biblical theism I favor. The fellow creatures in my worldview are in hers man’s biological “relatives.” Man is part of the “animal kingdom,” not subject to God’s. She proudly took her stand with the evolutionary hypothesis as the best explanation of the origin of species (not just variation within species).

I myself stand entirely in the scientific camp. I do not argue against any religious or even vitalistic doctrines; such things are not arguable. I speak not for, but from, a naturalist’s point of view, and anyone who does not share it can make his own reservations in judging what I say.

And I have, although not explicitly about her in my Philosophy after Christ. The foolishness of the latter gambit, including the conceit that it’s “not arguable”—would that be a case of “punching down”?—is what her stance commits her to. The brain that distinguishes man from the ape is, for her, an accident of a process that has no regard for her projects. We’re going to die, and the poignancy of her expression of that awareness does not bevel its sharp edges:

Probably the profoundest difference between human and animal needs is made by one piece of human awareness, one fact that is not present to animals, because it is never learned in any direct experience: that is our foreknowledge of Death.  The fact that we ourselves must die is not a simple and isolated fact.  It is built on a wide survey of facts, that discloses the structure of history as a succession of overlapping brief lives, the patterns of youth and age, growth and decline; and above all that, it is built on the logical insight that one’s own life is a case in point.  Only a creature that can think symbolically about life can conceive of its own death.  Our knowledge of death is part of our knowledge of life.

About ultimate origins, however, we know nothing and therefore should be silent. It’s not a good use of time to speculate about such things when there are so many empirical studies to be conducted! (Nobody ultimately knows anything, except we all “know” that biblical theism is nonsense.) She cannot but repair to an agnosticism that threatens the very foundations of her enterprise—but that’s a story for another day. Until then, enjoy the lecture. If you’re up to reading more by her, start with Philosophy in a New KeyOr visit my Langer portal on my old site.

Earlier posts on Susanne K. Langer

Susanne Langer’s thesis: stray notes from a new reading of “Mind: An Essay on Human Feeling”

Susanne K. Langer, 1895-1985

I’m experiencing my re-reading of Langer as a rediscovery; this post builds on one from last month, “Making the aesthetic realm a little less mysterious (to me): what I got from Susanne Langer (1895-1985).” That is, I’m feeling both more enlightened and retrospectively more stupid in the light of her patient empirical enquiries guided by a promising insight via her master concept of feeling. My study is self-referentially illuminating: what she did in Mind and what I’m doing by re-reading it are illustrations and examples of, not exceptions to, the rule her insights suggest.

I’m a biblicist; she decidedly was not. Yet I in my way and two orthodox Jesuit philosophers (Lonergan and a student of his, i.e., classical theists) in theirs found her work not only compatible with theirs, but a source of fruitful development.[1] My transcendental critique of philosophy does not give her conceptual framework a pass but, my goodness, how I envision the articulation of the former to benefit from the latter! Langer’s philosophy can and must be translated into theistic “creationese,” if you will, to rescue it from the ultimate unintelligibility to which her “agnostic” posture dooms it, without forcing her insights into alien, dogmatic categories. I would aim for to be a mutually beneficial cross-pollination. Maybe that’s something I can do, Deo volente.

For now, however, no systematic development from me is forthcoming, only suggestive notes. Citations are from Gary Van Den Heuvel’s abridgement of Langer’s trilogy, Mind: An Essay on Human Feeling, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1988.[2] Italics mine.

* * *

Langer’s thesis in nuce: “. . . the entire psychological field . . . is a vast and branching development of feeling.” 9

Langer’s “most important distinction within the realm of feeling” is between what is felt as impact and what is felt as autogenic action. 9 This flows from the “nature of vitality itself.” The pattern of stimulus and response . . . is a simplified schema derived from that natural division.” 9

The organism’s environment is not a system in the same sense as the organism is. There is an asymmetry between it and the surrounding world. 10.

“An organism is a continuous dynamism, a pattern of activity, basically electrochemical, but capable also of large, concerted forms if action with further principles of organization.” 10

Langer’s naturalistic presupposition on display: “There must have been several such turning points in the evolution of our world . . .  the very first genuinely symbolic utterances, speech, which marked the advent of man.” 13

Feeling is the starting-point of her philosophy of mind. “The same concept that raises problems of natural science takes one just as surely into humanistic ones . . . .” 14

Autogenic action and sense of impact correspond to emotivity and sensibility, the subjective and the objective. 13

“By ‘subjective’ I mean whatever is felt as action, and by ‘objective’ whatever is felt as impact.” Those words denote functional properties, not classes of things. They are “two possible modes of feeling, i.e., of psychical phases of activity.” 13

To be continued

Notes

[1] “Insight in musical composition is described by S. K. Langer, Feeling and Form (New York 1953), pp. 121 ff”.” Lonergan, Insight, 1956, 184n; “Not only are words themselves sensible but also their initial meaning commonly is sensible.” Lonergan, Insight, 544; “An accurate statement on initial meanings would be much more complex.” See S. K. Langer, Feeling and Form (New York 1953), pp. 237 ff.” Lonergan, Insight, 544n.

[2] To repeat a note from the previous post on her: Susanne K. Langer, Mind: An Essay on Human Feeling, Johns Hopkins University Press, three volumes (1967, 1972, 1982). She believed that our intelligence and everything we do with it is biology-based, but [speculative] metaphysical questions [before the hard empirical work] is done like ‘What grounds biology?’ were not her cup of tea. A one-volume abridgement by Gary Van Den Heuvel (1948-2012) came out in 1988; when he contacted me in 2009 about my site’s ‘Langer portal,’ we began a correspondence that lasted until a year before his death. The Langer Circle plans to publish this correspondence online later this year. Stay tuned.”

Carter G. Woodson’s encouragement of Herbert Aptheker: a “postscript” that merits a post.

Carter G. Woodson (1875-1950) reviewing ASNLH Bulletins.

In the preceding post, I inexplicably, and severely, understated things when I wrote that Carter G. Woodson, the father of Negro History in the United States, “had in 1946 replied to a letter Aptheker had written to him.”[1]

That doesn’t tell the half of it, no, not even a tenth of it, but, oddly, nearly all of it locked itself inside my memory just when I needed access to it. You see, their correspondence and relationship went back much further, about a decade earlier, and deeper. So, rather than lengthening the “birthday” post with an overlong “postscript,” as I had thought of doing last night, let me make amends with a post dedicated to correcting my inadvertent distortion.

US Army Captain Herbert Aptheker, Brooklyn, 1946

In 1946, Aptheker was back home in the States after his World War 2 ETO service. His academic interest in history, particularly the history that Woodson pioneered and in the man himself, had begun to percolate in 1935, leaving his geological studies in the dust.

Biographer Murrell notes that Aptheker was awarded a Bachelor of Science degree from Columbia University at the age 21 in 1936, “only three years after matriculating” as a teenager and then Black history occluded all else, launching himself headlong into the work that would yield his study of Nat Turner’s Southampton revolt and a Master of Arts degree in February of 1937. At 17 going on 18 and 19, young Herbert had

. . . studied the writings of Carter G. Woodson . . . . They corresponded and met several times in Washington, D.C., where Woodson lived. Woodson evidently liked Aptheker, encouraged his study, and attempted to keep him on the right track. “You ask my opinion also about what Virginia would have done if the Civil War had not happened,” Woodson wrote in his first communication with Aptheker. “This would be invading the field of prophecy, which I do not care to do. My field is history. I have no desire to depart for this sphere.”[2]

Aptheker set down vignettes of his intellectual shift of focus:

In my late teens [1933-1935], I became deeply interested in what we then called Negro history. I was fortunate enough to discover Dr. Woodson and the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History and its publications. I wrote to him with questions, and he responded. As a result, when I planned a trip to the Library of Congress, I told him of this; he arranged to meet me at the Penn Station.

We had lunch together; at that time, except for the ghetto, we could eat together only at a counter at the station. We did so, and Dr. Woodson inquired of my interest. I replied I was working toward understanding the Nat Turner revolt; that this was part of my studies at Columbia University. He encouraged me and said that when I planned another visit to the Library, I should let him know so that we might again meet.

We did meet. This time, Dr. Woodson took me to a restaurant in the ghetto. I remember it was below street level. When we were about to enter, he noticed some awkwardness or nervousness on my part. Dr. Woodson touched my elbow, helped me downstairs, and said, “Herbert, you may eat with us; here, there is no discrimination; we are civilized.” Continue reading “Carter G. Woodson’s encouragement of Herbert Aptheker: a “postscript” that merits a post.”