The Schopenhauer Cure(59)
Arthur’s personality, set at an early age, endured with remarkable consistency his entire life. The letters from his parents to the adolescent Arthur contain many passages that indicate their growing concern about his disinterest in social amenities: For example, his mother wrote, “…little though I care for stiff etiquette, I like even less a rough, self-pleasing, nature and action…. You have more than a slight inclination that way.” His father wrote, “I only wish you had learned to make yourself agreeable to people.”
Young Arthur’s travel diary reveals the man he would become. There, the teenaged Arthur demonstrates a precocious ability to distance himself and view things from a cosmic perspective. In describing a portrait of a Dutch admiral he says, “Next to the picture were the symbols of his life’s story: his sword, the beaker, the chain of honor which he wore, and finally the bullet which made all these useless to him.”
As a mature philosopher Schopenhauer took pride in his ability to assume an objective perspective, or, as he put it, “viewing the world through the wrong end of the telescope.” The appeal of viewing the world from above is already found in his early comments about mountain climbing. At sixteen he wrote, “I find that a panorama from a high mountain enormously contributes to the broadening of concepts…. all small objects disappear and only what is big retains its shape.”
There is a powerful foreshadowing here of the adult Schopenhauer. He would continue to develop the cosmic perspective that allowed him as a mature philosopher to experience the world as if from a great distance—not only physically and conceptually but temporally. At an early age he intuitively apprehended the perspective of Spinoza’s “sub species aeteritatis,” to see the world and its events from the perspective of eternity. The human condition, Arthur concluded, could be best understood not from being a part of but apart from it. As an adolescent he wrote presciently of his future lofty isolation.
Philosophy is a high mountain road…an isolated road and becomes even more desolate the higher we ascend. Whoever pursues this path should show no fear but must leave everything behind and confidently make his own way in the wintry snow…. He soon sees the world beneath him; its sandy beaches and morasses vanish from his view, its uneven spots are leveled out, its jarring sounds no longer reach his ear. And its roundness is revealed to him. He himself is always in the pure cool mountain air and beholds the sun when all below is still engulfed in dead of night.
But there is more than a pull toward the heights motivating Schopenhauer; there are pushes from below. Two other traits are also evident in the young Arthur: a deep misanthropy coupled with a relentless pessimism. If there was something about heights, distant vistas, and the cosmic perspective that lured Arthur, then, too, there was much evidence that he was repelled by closeness to others. One day after descending from the crystal-clear sunrise on a mountaintop and reentering the human world in a chalet at the mountain base he reported: “We entered a room of carousing servants…. It was unbearable: their animalistic warmth gave off a glowing heat.”
Contemptuous, mocking observations of others fill his travel diaries. Of a Protestant service he wrote: “The strident singing of the multitude made my ears ache, and an individual with bleating mouth wide open repeatedly made me laugh.” Of a Jewish service: “Two little boys standing next to me made me lose my countenance because at the wide-mouthed roulade with their heads flung back, they always seemed to be yelling at me.” A group of English aristocrats “looked like peasant wenches in disguise.” The king of England “is a handsome old man but the queen is ugly without any bearing.” The emperor and empress of Austria “both wore exceedingly modest clothes. He is a gaunt man whose markedly stupidly face would lead one to guess a tailor rather than an emperor.” A school chum aware of Arthur’s misanthropic trend wrote Arthur in England: “I am sorry that your stay in England has induced you to hate the entire nation.”
This mocking, irreverent young lad would develop into the bitter, angry man who habitually referred to all humans as “bipeds,” and would agree with Thomas à Kempis, “Every time I went out among men I came back less human.”
Did these traits impede Arthur’s goal to be the “clear eye of the world?” The young Arthur foresaw the problem and wrote a memo to his older self: “Be sure your objective judgments are not for the most part concealed subjective ones.” Yet, as we shall see, despite his resolve, despite his self-discipline, Arthur was often unable to heed his own youthful, excellent advice.
21
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He is a happy man who can once and for all avoid having to do with a great many of his fellow creatures.
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At the onset of the following meeting, just as Bonnie was asking Julius whether Pam was back from her trip, Pam opened the door, spread her arms, and loudly called out, “Da Dumm!” Everyone, save Philip, stood and greeted her. In her unique loving fashion she went around the circle, looked into each person’s eyes, hugged them, kissed Rebecca and Bonnie, tousled Tony’s hair, and, when she got to Julius, held him for a long while and whispered, “Thank you for being so honest on the phone. I’m devastated, so so sorry, so worried about you.” Julius looked at Pam. Her familiar, smiling face conveyed courage and radiant energy. “Welcome back, Pam,” he said. “God, it’s good to see you here. We missed you. I missed you.”