[…] Our intuitions about logicality are not a kind of perception of an external reality: they are historical artifacts, a product of our logical and philosophical educations. To the extent that there is intersubjective agreement about them, it should be attributed to a shared tradition, not access to a tradition-independent reality. As Stewart Shapiro and others have pointed out, the very idea of “pretheoretical logical intuitions” is dubious. […] All our intuitions about logicality bear the stamp of theory. If we have the intuition that logic must be “formal”, this is not because of some extrasensory perception of the essence of logic, but because we have encountered the idea so often in the course of our philosophical training.
MacFarlane, What does it mean to say that Logic is Formal?, p.26
This is not to say that we should ignore all our intuitions about logicality. But before invoking these intuitions in justifying or criticizing a proposed demarcation of logic, we ought to seek their sources in the philosophical tradition. By studying the history of conceptions of logicality we can see why philosophers have the intuitions they do. Knowing this, we can proceed to ask which intuitions we still have reasons to have, which go together, and which come from incompatible traditions. Historical reflection is a way to make our “brute intuitions” less “brute”.
MacFarlane, What does it mean to say that Logic is Formal?, p.25-26
Philosophers tend to talk about philosophy. And even if such talk is motivated by infinite charity and fraternal good will, it provokes some response, comment or counter-argument to the ideas and theories presented. In print the same arguments have quite different impact; they can simply be registered without requiring an immediate response, or can be interpreted to suit one’s frame of mind, and as a last resort a page can be turned and a book can be closed. But in conversation courtesy demands that the addressee reacts and related himself. And this is, in Kant’s view, a dangerous exercise, and one that certainly lacks the productive element that Socrates may have found in it. Philosophers, or so Kant thought, work best in isolation - in an unsocratic environment where people and the world outside in general are kept at a distance and under editorial control, and are never permitted to intrude upon the indivisibility of that fragile unit formed by an idea and its objective formulation in writing.
Weigelt, Introduction of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason (Penguin Books), p.xxiii-xxiv
This book may appear heterogeneous. In a sense, it is, and some explanation regarding the circumstances of its composition might be useful to the reader.
The first part is formed by the text “Marxism and Revolutionary Theory” published in Socialisme ou Barbarie from April 1964 to June 1965. This text was itself the never-ending development of a “Note on the Marxist philosophy and theory of history”, which accompanied “The revolutionary movement under modern capitalism” and was circulated along with it among the group Socialisme ou Barbarie (Spring 1959). When the publication of Socialisme ou Barbarie was suspended, the remaining part of “Marxism and Revolutionary Theory” yet unpublished, although for the most part already drafted, was left among my papers.
Written under the pressure of deadlines imposed by the publication of the journal, this part is itself not a completed work but a work in the making. Contrary to all the rules of composition, the walls of the building are displayed one after the other as they are erected, surrounded by the remains of scaffolding, piles of sand and rocks, odds and ends of wooden supports and dirty trowels. Without making this into a thesis, I am assuming this presentation as my own, dictated at first by “external” factors. It should be merely a commonplace, recognized by everyone, that in the case of a work of reflection, removing the scaffolding and clean up the area around the building not only is no benefit to the reader, but deprives him of something essential. Unlike the work of art, there is no finished edifice here, nor an edifice to be finished; just as much, and even more with the results, what is important is the work of reflection and it is perhaps mostly this that an author can make us see, if he can make us see anything at all. Presenting the result as a systematic and polished totality, which in truth it never is; or even presenting the construction process - as is often the case, pedagogically but erroneously, in so many philosophical works - in the form of a well-ordered and wholly-mastered logical process, can only serve to reinforce in the reader the disastrous illusion towards which he, like all of us, is already naturally inclined, that the edifice was constructed for him and that he has only, if he so desires, to move in and live there. Thinking is not building cathedrals or composing symphonies. If the symphony exists, it is the reader who must create it in his own ears.
Castoriadis, Preface to the Imaginary Institution of Society, p.1-2
Συνεντευξη ροδοστογλου, παρομοια σκεψη με καστοριαδη στην αλληλεπιδραση δημιουργου και αναγνωστη
Λὀγω της εμπλοκής μου με τα Διάφανα Κρίνα, με τη μουσική και τις συναυλίες ήρθα από πολύ νωρίς και από κοντά σε επαφή με τους ανθρώπους που αγαπάνε αυτά που γράφω. Και πάντοτε υπήρχε ένας αμοιβαίος σεβασμός, μία ειλικρινής ανταλλαγή σκέψεων και συναισθημάτων και σε πολλές περιπτώσεις μία μέθεξη από τη χαρά της συνάντησης που έδινε στην έννοια της ανθρώπινης επαφής την πραγματική της ουσία. Ήταν κάτι που δεν είχα φανταστεί απ' όταν έφηβος ακόμα ξεκινούσα να γράφω, σε μία προσπάθειά μου να εκτονώσω σκέψεις και συναισθήματα που με βάραιναν ή που δεν μπορούσα να κατανοήσω. Στην πορεία διάβασα, έμαθα, κατάλαβα πως η ανάγκη του ανθρώπου να βγει από τον ιδιωτικό του χώρο και να προσεγγίσει τους ομοίους του έχει τις ρίζες της σε πανάρχαια ένστικτα αυτοσυντήρησης με βαθιές υπαρξιακές προεκτάσεις. Και όταν τίθενται υπαρξιακά ερωτήματα θα βρεθούμε αναπόφευκτα μπροστά στον άλλο, τον Ξένο. Η σπουδαία ιδιότητα των καλλιτεχνικών δημιουργημάτων είναι ότι σχεδόν πάντα αποτελούν τον τόπο μιας συνάντησης. Κάποιο πρωταρχικό ένστικτο συλλογικὀτητας μας ωθεί να προσεγγίσουμε τους άλλους, να προσπαθήσουμε να τους μεταδώσουμε την ποιότητα και τη δύναμη αυτού που νιώσαμε. Επιχειρούμε να τους πείσουμε να αφεθούν κι εκείνοι σ' αυτό. Ο αναγνώστης (όπως και ο θεατής μίας συναυλίας ή ενός ζωγραφικού έργου), αν δεν είναι ένας παθητικός δέκτης, αλληλεπιδρά δημιουργικά και συμμετέχει στο καλλιτεχνικό έργο, η ματιά του το επηρεάζει και η αντίληψή του το μεταβάλλει, αποκαλύπτει κρυφές πτυχές και κρυμμένα νοήματα που ίσως ούτε και ο ίδιος ο συγγραφέας δεν είχε συνειδητοποιήσει ότι υπάρχουν. Έτσι ξεκινάει να αναπτύσσεται μία σχέση με αμοιβαίο ενδιαφέρον, κάποιου είδους συνομιλίας αν θέλετε, που πολλές φορές μπορεί να διαρκέσει για χρόνια. Ὀ, τι διαμοιράζεται μέσα από αυτή τη σχέση, είναι αυτά τα «δώρα της ζωής» που λέει πολύ όμορφα ο Νερούδα. Ή κατά τον Μανὀλη Πρατικάκη: «είμαστε πάντα οι άλλοι, τούτο το πυκνό πλήθος των ξένων που κρυώνει και σπαράζει».
Ροδοστόγλου, http://www.mic.gr/synenteyxi/pantelis-rodostogloy-otan-tithentai-yparxiaka-erotimata-tha-vrethoyme-anapofeykta-mprosta