Let me begin with four examples of a curious phenomenon:
1. In Aristotle’s Rhetoric, the chief instrument of persuasion is the enthymeme, which is a defective syllogism. The defect is that one of the premises is withheld, so that the listener must provide or assume the missing premise. Aristotle:
The enthymeme must consist of few propositions, fewer often than those which make up the normal syllogism. For if any of these propositions is a familiar fact, there is no need even to mention it; the hearer adds it himself. (Rhetoric, Book I, Chapter 2, 1356a)
Why is a defective syllogism more persuasive than a complete syllogism? Why wouldn’t supplying the missing premise have more force?
2. Heraclitus claims in one of his fragments that:
ἁρμονίη ἀφανὴς φανερῆς κρείττων
(A unapparent harmony is more potent that an apparent one.)
Why isn’t an apparent harmony better?
3. In the John 20:29, Jesus tells Thomas: “You believe because you have seen; blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” Is this a similar phenomenon to the previous examples — that the potent harmony not-seen is greater than the one seen?
4. To use another verse from John 1: “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not comprehended it.” Could “light shining in darkness” point to the same phenomenon: the greater power of the implicit over the explicit?
The core principle of Defective Reading is that defects/imperfections can only be experienced as such if there is operative within the soul a prior sense of wholeness/completion. We experience the defect first and yet can grasp on reflection that the immanent criterion must somehow be prior. Platonic philosophy is the struggle to direct our attention on this light that somehow always shines behind us.
This metaphorical light has two chief effects: shadows and reflections. Experiencing defect is the shadow of occluded light, whereas the seeming-true of opinion is the reflection. Shadow is an unapparent effect of light whereas reflection is an apparent effect, but both are effects. But beholding the reflected light is passive, whereas inferring the light behind the shadow requires an active and fuller understanding of the light’s power. We can allow ourselves to be satisfied with the dim light of reflection, but the felt absence of light can shake us from such small satisfactions. The understanding that grasps a defect, a shadow, a hidden harmony as deficient is one that is energetic (in Aristotle’s sense). Reflected light is more evident, but the inferred light is more potent. A fault-finding power also seems to be a protreptic power, guiding us to greater perfection.
Let me end with some lines from Wallace Stephens that should make perfect sense in the light of my theory of Defective Reading:
The exceeding brightness of this early sun
Makes me conceive how dark I have become,
And re-illumines things that used to turn
To gold in broadest blue, and be a part
Of a turning spirit in an earlier self.
Happy (belated) Easter, everyone!
2 thoughts on “The darkness is light enough”
From another angle, we might ask ourselves about boredom; what makes something boring/uninteresting? It seems like it has to do with predictability, with what the mind has trod over and digested before. Where there are no shadows the brain has nothing to do.
Quay, I think you are right about defectiveness and boredom. Tolstoy (I think) defined boredom as “the desire for desires” and a desire is always the anticipation of something not-yet satisfied. But we can’t be satisfied without desire; they are strict correlates. Just look at school children spoon fed predigested answers without having received any real desire for an answer (i.e. a real question). Boredom and anomie are the inevitable result — in the unmedicated at least.