In the Dust of This Planet: Horror of Philosophy

Horror of Philosophy #1

by Eugene Thacker

#1 Amazon Best Seller in Philosophy Criticism.

The world is increasingly unthinkable, a world of planetary disasters, emerging pandemics, and the looming threat of extinction. In this book Eugene Thacker suggests that we look to the genre of horror as offering a way of thinking about the unthinkable world. To confront this idea is to confront the limit of our ability to understand the world in which we live – a central motif of the horror genre. In the Dust of This Planet explores these relationships between philosophy and horror. In Thacker's hands, philosophy is not academic logic-chopping; instead, it is the thought of the limit of all thought, especially as it dovetails into occultism, demonology, and mysticism. Likewise, Thacker takes horror to mean something beyond the focus on gore and scare tactics, but as the under-appreciated genre of supernatural horror in fiction, film, comics, and music. This relationship between philosophy and horror does not mean the philosophy of horror, if anything, it means the reverse, the horror of those moments when philosophical thinking enigmatically confronts the horizon of its own existence. For Thacker, the genre of supernatural horror is the key site in which this paradoxical thought of the unthinkable takes place. The cover of In the Dust of this Planet can be seen in a New York gallery, on a banner at the 2014 Climate Change march in New York and on Jay-Z's back promoting Run. The book influenced the writers of the US TV series True Detective and has been lambasted by ex-Fox News broadcaster, Glenn Beck in this podcast

Genres: Philosophy, Nonfiction, Horror, Theory, Essays, Science, Music

181 pages, Kindle Edition

First published August 16, 2011

About the author

Eugene Thacker is an American philosopher, poet and author. He is Professor of Media Studies at The New School in New York City. His writing is often associated with the philosophy of nihilism and pessimism. Thacker's books include In the Dust of This Planet and Infinite Resignation.

Reviews

[Patrick · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was attracted to this book by a glowing quote from Thomas Ligotti, one of my favourite modern horror writers, who described it as: ‘an encyclopedic grimoire instructing us in the varieties of esoteric thought and infernal diversions that exist for the reader's further investigation, treating us to a delightful stroll down a midway of accursed attractions that alone are worth the ticket of this volume’. This description is a little misleading to say the least, since the author doesn’t aim at anything like a comprehensive survey of his subject – but it certainly has an air of the esoteric about it, and it has its fair share of dark delights.

Briefly, the argument of the book is that through certain works of the horror genre we can encounter something which the author calls the ‘world-without-us’: a vision of the universe in which humanity is not only extinct but has never existed in any sense, a place which is utterly indifferent even to the idea of us. It is a thing which words fail to describe adequately, perhaps exemplified in Lovecraft’s many tales of inconceivable depths; one could call it ‘dark’ or ‘disturbing’, but our conceptions of what those words entail are limited as notions inherited from religious tradition.

It’s not a particularly easy read, and I wasn’t a great fan of the jargon-laden style, but the subject is nevertheless fascinating. I marked a great many passages. The author is widely-read, his subjects diverse, his thought digressive; and yet he seems to expend a great deal of ink in tracing the contours of an idea which is expressed with greater elegance and simplicity in the fictions he so admires. Why not then express them succinctly in fiction? Most of the chapters conclude with more questions than can possibly be answered in one book, and I was constantly waiting for the author to take his thesis a step or two beyond. And so what, I kept wondering. What does it do to us, this world-without-us? Where does it come from? What is it for?

The final chapter is perhaps the most interesting. It purports to discuss a long poem called ‘The Subharmonic Murmur of Black Tentacular Voids’, a work which the author describes as having emerged and circulated on the internet and in literary journals as a kind of meme, and which (apparently) has produced ‘verifiable geomantic symptoms within the metabolism and physiognomy of those who have, under unspecified conditions, recited its lines...’

Well, I quite liked the poem, though I will leave it to you to decide whether the author is tugging at our geomantic legs about it; the reference to a specially-dedicated issue of the ‘Journal of Literary Psycoplamsics’ [sic?] ought to be a clue. But the commentary seems altogether too much a part of the rest of the book to stand on its own merit; while it begins as simple textual exegesis, it soon drifts back towards topics the author might just as well have discussed elsewhere. Not that such discussions aren’t without merit, but I did wonder why the author would introduce such an interesting literary device if only to forget about it a few paragraphs later.

It's good. If you like this sort of thing.

[Matteo Fumagalli · Rating 5 out of 5]

Videorecensione: https://youtu.be/Tz-X_7ERR64

Lo aspettavo da tempo e, finalmente uscito, ne sono stato risucchiato. Lettura splendida in cui Darkthrone, Dante, Junji Ito, Bataille e Lovecraft -tra gli altri- sfilano e aprono spiragli sulla nostra realtà fatta di pandemie, disastri e dominata dall'ignoto.

Un lavoro filosofico complesso, denso, che ruota attorno all'impensabile. Un tema raccontato attraverso l'orrore e l'estetica horror, in grado di toccare anche quei temi che la filosofia fatica a trattare.
L'occulto e l'oscuro sono mezzi attraverso i quali cerchiamo di darci delle risposte sul mondo senza di noi, inimmaginabile e non umanocentrico, ma non per questo non possibile.

Una bomba. Mindblowing.
Da leggere rigorosamente con "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas" in sottofondo.

[Jesse · Rating 2 out of 5]

An interesting look at some philosophical themes -- essence, reality, negation, alterity, myth -- with horror and occult themes used as a framework. The work deserves a star, simply for its ambition, given its experimental structures and unconventional ways of organizing its ideas. There are compelling conceptual turns and clever treatments, so it's certainly worth a shot, especially for fans of horror and theory, speculative realism, etc.

I would have rated this work higher, but the ideas didn't gel, or build in any intelligible way. When no continuous thread is discernible, it makes the whole work feel like a stream of consciousness of provocations and obscurity. It clearly takes itself seriously, despite its occasional sense of irony, but it doesn't move beyond the standard philosophical motif that governs all horror-oriented theoretical projects: The universe is defined by an absolutely unknowable Other, which engages us in paradoxes of alterity when we try to approach it.

This is a work characterized by eclectic references, horror and occult themes, and conceptual provocations. Your mileage may vary, but if that's what you're into, give it a shot.

[Tobias Wonderland · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have no idea what this was about but I liked it

[Daniel Roy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book made my skin crawl and my mind expand. It's a dense, sometimes impenetrable work of philosophy that discusses the Unthinkable, so obviously it's not going to work very well as beach reading. But if you give it your attention and an open mind, there are some seriously creepy-cool concepts about the Universe to be gleaned here.

I heard about this book through a fascinating Radiolab episode about the book's improbable underground cult status. Thomas Ligotti has heaped praise on it, and the creator of HBO's True Detective mentioned it as part of his inspiration for McConaughey's character of Rust. That being said, this pedigree led me to believe this book would be about something quite different than it is. Although it does touch on themes of nihilism and philosophical pessimism, this book's main focus is on the genre of horror, and the way in which it complements philosophy in addressing the subjects that philosophy cannot touch.

Thacker introduces some concepts that truly blew my mind and made me think long and hard about my own existence. He introduces three levels of reality. First is the "world-for-us", which is the familiar, the scientific, the purview of our human experience. Next is the "world-in-itself," which escapes our grasp, but remains knowable. And finally is "the world-without-us," the unknowable, the unthinking; forever outside our grasp and our ability to define. Horror, then, becomes the human tool that we use to discuss this world, hostile to our very existence, and unknowable.

Thacker's argument is that the horror genre and the occult are means by which humanity has tried to understand the "world-without-us," in a way which, by definition, philosophy never could. His arguments, through the analysis and discussion of horror and occult concepts, is fascinating and horrifying in its own right. It induces this sense of cosmic, intellectual horror which permeates the works of H.P. Lovecraft, among others. This is potent, fascinating stuff that's well worth the investment in time and mental energy.

In the closing chapter, Thacker introduces a poem, "The Subharmonic Murmur of Black Tentacular Voids," which he then uses to bridge philosophy and horror as he explores the concept of unknowing and cosmic horror. It's a clever bit of meta literature, and an effective one at that. Although I was unimpressed by the poem at first, I reread it a few times and its cold, scientific genesis of extremophile life hostile to thought got under my skin.

All in all, a fascinating, difficult read, and one which touches on subjects that are, by definition, untouchable.

[Cosimo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Notte, suolo, pianeta, nulla

Questo testo tratta di nichilismo e misticismo. Pone al lettore molte domande, restando silenzioso e meditativo nelle risposte; se sia possibile pensare il non pensiero, se sia possibile pensare il nulla, se infine sia possibile comunicare l'esperienza mistica. Nell'ordinario non c'è in apparenza qualcosa di mistico, ma nel quotidiano accade spesso di oscillare tra una predilezione per la distanza, il prendersi tempo per noi, e la ricerca di un senso di comunità e appartenenza, come ben si riflette qui nel pensiero di Georges Bataille: […] quest'esperienza quotidiana rappresenta il nodo di un dilemma mistico: quello di un'esperienza della continuità (esistere in quanto mondo) che può aver luogo solo a condizione di una discontinuità di base (esistere nel mondo). Per esistere in quanto mondo, dobbiamo necessariamente smettere di esistere nel mondo”. Eugene Thacker disegna una filosofia dell'orrore, racconta una tradizione del misticismo dell'oscurità, che ha origine in Meister Eckhart e in Juan de la Cruz e Teresa D'Avila, passando per le grandi allegorie di Dante, il Faust e Lovecraft e i filosofemi del mondo per noi e del mondo in sé di Schopenhauer e la teologia negativa di Jakob Böhme, con l'idea di ungrund, senza fondo, ovvero di una esistenza e di una logica biologica che affrontano come cardine etico l'assenza di un fondamento, il disancoraggio, la perdita dell'umano e del divino, l'abisso e il nulla assoluto come condizione ineluttabile per l'essere umano. La via per procedere filosoficamente non è una fuga incondizionata dal possibile verso l'impossibile che lo circonda, cosa che, per quanto pericolosa, rischia di trasformarsi in un abbandono passivo all'illusione; invece, si deve credere che la conoscenza umana diviene calcolo del possibile, qualora tenda a organizzare la totalità delle cose in se stesse, convertendo l'impossibile in possibile. Più cose apprendiamo del pianeta, più esso ci appare strano (weird). Dobbiamo coniugare la velocità del tempo umano, l'economia convenzionale produzione-consumo, con l'economia cosmica, quella del tempo profondo, per un'ecologia radicale, non antropica, che si rivolga alla profondità e alla dormienza dell'energia geologica universale. Secondo Thacker, bisogna accettare l'ipotesi che il mondo sia letteralmente privo di ragione; che la ragione sia insufficiente a ordinare il mondo, a spiegare la creazione, a desumere una pluralità da un'unità: in questo senso la posizione della wille, la volontà, appare innestata in una logica paradossale, perché il mondo in sé è privo di quei connotati morali e teologici che noi invece per fragilità gli attribuiamo. A determinare e costituire la relazione tra sé e il mondo è la sofferenza; ed esperire la sofferenza, provarla, non significa comprenderla né essere in grado di descriverla. Bisogna, prosegue Thacker, volgersi al mondo e vedere la sua neutralità, la sua indifferenza, come una negazione, una sottrazione di intelligibilità, che non è né rabbia né amore, né male né bene, né luce né buio, semplicemente è una nientità autoctona, un nulla assoluto, un annientamento al di là dell'umano, che discende oscuramente dall'unione tra naturale e soprannaturale. Allora, riprendendo le fila del discorso, Thacker afferma che stiamo assistendo al duplice declino di scienza e religione, e in questa rivelazione (che è anche ulteriore inabissamento, notte oscura dell'anima), è necessario divenire consapevoli della nullità che sta a fondamento del sé e del mondo; è bene cercare di percepire “l'oscuro misticismo del mondo in sé”, nel suo primitivismo, che svuota ogni nostra rappresentazione. Allora, se è inutile disperarsi nell'abisso, ed è andare a fondo iterativamente ricercare un nuovo senso, la cosa che resta da fare alla filosofia che cerca una via di uscita è di cercarla nel nulla puramente negativo, nella fondatezza del non essere. Secondo il filosofo Nishitani e la tradizione buddhista, esattamente nel concetto di vacuità, śūnyatā, dove è possibile e attuabile la disgiunzione radicale tra sé e il mondo, l'identità poetica e allegorica del non-esistente e l'indifferenza (la perfetta sostituibilità) di tutto ciò che esiste. Sembra davvero una irresistibile espressione di umiltà. Nella quale, solo si può pensare il mondo senza nascondimento, ovvero il mondo senza di noi. Il mondo senza di noi è spettrale, e ci pone due opzioni: pensare che esista o che non esista., dubitando dei sensi o dello statuto della realtà; una ambiguità contenuta nel senso forse fantastico di un impotente orrore.

“A differenza del dominio del nulla, nel quale il desolato abisso senza fondo allontana le une dalle altre persino le persone o le cose più intimamente vicine, nel dominio del vuoto questa frattura assoluta denota direttamente il più intimo degli incontri con tutto ciò che esiste”.

[Alexander · Rating 4 out of 5]

What would it mean to speak of a ‘horror of philosophy’ instead of a 'philosophy of horror’? With this question, Eugene Thacker begins his weird and wonderful romp through the hallowed halls of horror, from the nine circles of Dante’s hell, to the living dead of contemporary cinema, topped off with some mediations on murderous mists and ominous ooze for good measure. But why this gallery of gruesome? Well, Thacker suggests, it’s because horror is uniquely suited to expose the limits of thought, emerging as it does at those very points at which thought undergoes its own dissolution, where philosophy no longer mediates on horror (as with a ‘philosophy of horror’), but itself becomes subject to horror’s vicissitudes. The horror of philosophy, writes Thacker, is the thought of the unthinkable.

Thus it is that demonology, witchcraft and magic take centre stage here with Thacker as a whirlwind tour guide, leaping from example to occult example, each exposing a dimension of an unthinkable world, one shorn of humanity and indifferent to any desire, whim and fancy of human projection. Dark subject matter to be sure, but deftly dealt with by Thacker’s surprisingly light touch – so light, in fact, that there’s almost a comic effect to the way in which Thacker so casually discusses the weighty themes of cosmic pessimism and universal indifference. Perhaps it’s a simple consequence of Thacker’s incredible erudition and deep knowledge of the texts he’s working with, but In The Dust of This Planet is infused with a sense of adventure that makes it anything but a gloomy read.

As should be clear by now, this isn't strictly speaking a work of philosophy in the traditional sense. Indeed, as a fellow traveler of the 'non-philosophical' crowd clustered around the work of French thinker Francois Laruelle, like them, Thacker doesn't so much 'do' philosophy as he works 'with' philosophy from a vantage point just outside of it. Looking upon philosophy from the perspective of horror allows Thacker to illuminate the stakes of the philosophical enterprise as a whole, bringing to the foreground the specters that haunt its foundations from within. Hence, for example, Thacker's macabre rendering of the concept of 'Life', and its breakdown into the ‘living-dead’ or the ‘life that should not be living’. In Thacker's hands, Life, one of our most intimate categories of thought, simply falls apart, and what we encounter instead is horror at the very heart of who and what we (think we) are.

For all that, as the first of three volumes, the book does leave the impression raising more questions than it answers, open-endedly exploring aesthetic and cultural themes rather than fleshing out any concrete thesis, which lends the book its slightly 'pop-philosophy'/sourcebook feel. Although Thacker does make it clear that his aim to think the 'paradoxical thought' of a 'world-without-us', Thacker's endgame seems to be an inquiry into the possibility of a non-theological and non-anthropocentric mysticism, an 'occultism of the noumenal' (to borrow Kant's phrase), one that aims not at 'becoming one with the divine', but rather a sort of 'becoming nothing'. This insofar as for Thacker, as with Schopenhauer and Bataille before him, nothing is 'all there is'. Although mysticism of any sort is not something I've ever been able to buy into, my own takeaway was something like an renewed appreciation for the autonomy of horror, one not yet coopted into the omnivorous ambit of philosophy. A matter of 'letting horror be', to put a twist on the old Heideggerian slogan.

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

In short, when the non-human world manifests itself to us in these ambivalent ways, more often than not our response is to recuperate that non-human world into whatever the dominant, human-centric worldview is at the time.

I suppose we should keep busy as we inhabit a world which is only a planet glazed with our intentions. I meant busy as in distracted, not as an Accelerationist call to action or amplification. There's enough of that already. I enjoyed this fragmentary work, I found myself threading the assertions through a space of theory--one where Kant and Land are currently the loudest although Heidegger and Wittgenstein have plenty to say, if only I'd sit down and listen. Somehow the latter's comment about the language of a lion has been a motif of sorts. Thacker talks about demonology and black metal music. He broaches the planetary history of extinction and considers the implications of theosophy. Lovecraft is summoned when the horror becomes the unthinkable but this appears to go inert at the feet of Bataille's impossible, strictly lower case. I had expected to stirred by this book but wasn't.

[Andrew]

To call it "philosophy" is frankly misleading. In fact, its arguable companion piece, Ligotti's Conspiracy Against the Human Race, despite it being the work of a literary author, offers something far closer to a systematic philosophical system than Thacker does. Thacker simply wants to show the complex ways in which the unknowable other manifests itself in thought, whether through contemporary genre fiction, or through the midnight nail-bitings of Saint John of the Cross. While it's not bad -- I found each section interesting, and, as with the best nonfiction, it gave me some further additions to my reading list -- don't expect serious philosophical inquiry.

[Ashley]

Whether my disappointment in this will prove a function of my expectation, only time and renewed reading-neither of which I am at present prepared to invest-will tell. Much of the subject matter is compelling, but Thacker's treatment of that subject matter is made in the most awful kind of academic prattling. This book reads like your buddy's PhD dissertation he thrust on you, by which I mean that it is not alive. This is philosophy not in the wild, but philosophy confined to a zoo.

[Oakley C. · Rating 1 out of 5]

Numerous typos? CHECK
Cloying pedagogical tone that assumes extreme ignorance on the part of the reader? CHECK
Throw away references to Kant, Hegel, the book of "Revelations", et al? CHECK
A superficial take on Schopenhauer and Nietzsche? CHECK
A paradoxically "deeply superficial" view on negativity and negation as such? CHECK
A refusal to see if the more "traditional" sources of thought (theological, philosophical, and political) already conform to or support the author's argument? CHECK
A pandering to pop culture without any meaningful investigations of the ideological presuppositions which might in part be responsible for molding some of the author's notions, simply for the sake of disclosure? CHECK

[Mary Slowik · Rating 3 out of 5]

Review the unreviewable. Rate the unrateable.

This is an incredibly ambitious book of philosophy, in that it is quite literally trying to "think the unthinkable," or to establish a kind of mysticism / belief system that is without any human (anthropocentric) basis whatsoever. In other words, to create a framework for interpreting reality from an increasingly remote point of view... that of the planet, of the cosmos, of nothingness itself-- which is nothing, therefore it cannot even be an 'itself,' and should not be described as the absence of things but rather more extremely as the absence of absence.

Yeah, it's mindfuck territory like that. The recommendation of Thomas Ligotti means a lot to me, but I don't know if I can agree that this is 'riveting' or even all that accessible, much as it might try to be. The guiding principles of Zer0 Books, which published it, include fostering works that are "intellectual, but not academic, popular, but not populist." I'm not sure this entirely achieves that ideal. Much of it wanders into psychobabble territory, even with all the references to supernatural horror in literature, cinema and popular culture, too often content to carry on with familiar philosophical wool-gathering. I much prefer philosophy that moves in straight lines rather than circles, and reaches workable conclusions, as found in The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. I suppose that means I prefer a horror writer discussing philosophy, instead of a philosopher discussing horror writings.

This was written by a professor, and it shows in the academic verbiage: "antinomies," "meontology," "noological," etc. It reads very much like a thesis paper or an exegesis, rather than genuinely accessible philosophy. I admire the ambition, and the dual advantage of broad scope and narrow focus, but I can't in good conscience recommend this to anyone except those already steeped in existential or nihilistic literature. Even the discussion of extinction is marred by the fact that the author doesn't appear to take sides. You can either be for or against procreation: no fence-riders allowed. Yes, the planet is indifferent towards our survival, but how do you feel about it, professor?

[Flavia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Premessa: "Tra le ceneri di questo pianeta" non è un saggio divulgativo, bensì una trattazione filosofica, e non è nemmeno conclusiva o risolutiva nelle premesse che si pone poichè si tratta del primo volume di una trilogia. E quel che segue non è una recensione ma un commento, personalissimo e parziale.

Ciò che mi sarei aspettata di trovare: un saggio, alla maniera di "The Weird and the Eerie" di Mark Fisher, dove opere musicali, letterarie e cinematografiche sono chiamate in causa e analizzate per mostrare come il linguaggio dell'arte sappia descrivere e definire, ma soprattutto trasmettere, concetti e suggestioni altrimenti impossibili da rendere.

Cosa ho trovato: un trattato filosofico, e per di più sulla sua parte più complessa, quel grande Abisso di senso e significato col quale tutti i filosofi, presto o tardi, sono arrivati a confrontarsi: "Dio è morto, la vita non ha senso e chi dice il contrario mente per paura, l'Universo è distante e disinteressato e la razza umana dovrebbe estinguersi, anzi avrebbe già dovuto farlo, perchè non si estingue dannazione?" e tutto il repertorio.

La sinossi, in questo caso, si è rivelata un pò ingannevole, forse impostata per attirare alla lettura un pubblico più vasto di quello al quale un testo del genere è rivolto in realtà. A tutto detrimento del libro e dei suoi intenti.

In ogni caso mi ci è voluta la lettura di parecchie pagine per rassegnarmi al fatto che non avrei letto un'illuminata analisi di motivi presi da cinema/libri horror e musica metal, analisi che mi avrebbe fornito nuove chiavi di lettura, nuove suggestioni (queste sì) filosofiche, le quali avrebbero provveduto a spalancare la mia povera mente mortale a significati altri, più profondi e terrificanti, sulla condizione umana rispetto a quell'Universo cieco e idiota che gorgoglia indifferente al centro del tutto e del niente.
Perciò ho dovuto rispolverare quel poco che ricordavo della filosofia studiata a scuola, per comprendere dove un trattato del genere volesse condurmi e se fossi degna di coglierne lo scopo. Consapevole dei miei limiti ho però ravvisato una prima, enorme incongruenza: il libro titola "Tra le ceneri di questo Pianeta", parla di mondo-per-noi, mondo-in-sè, epperò tutte le premesse della trattazione partono dalla filosofia occidentale, dalla cultura occidentale, la stessa impostazione è quella delle discussioni scolastiche medievali e il linguaggio non è altro che quello già ampiamente usato e abusato dalla filosofia per trattare le stesse identiche tematiche da tempo immemore. Dunque quale nuova visione del problema mi porta? Formula forse un nuovo linguaggio col quale affrontare vecchie questioni? Forse l'aggancio con la letteratura e la musica è funzionale a fornire nuovi approcci, nuovi spunti immaginifici dai quali sintetizzare un nuovo modello, una visione completamente originale e finalmente risolutiva del problema? Niente di tutto questo.
La tematica è vecchia come il mondo, il linguaggio usato lo è altrettanto e le conclusioni sono le stesse già raggiunte da legioni di filosofi prima di Thacker.
Perciò cosa c'è di nuovo? C'è che Thacker non si arrende. A lui gli aggiustamenti furbi e buonisti di quanti hanno colmato il problema dell'Abisso di senso con l'incapacità dell'uomo ad arrivarci non gli vanno proprio giù. Lui vuole spingersi oltre, a lui non piace che in quel vuoto dove l'uomo non può guardare ci possa essere qualcosa che ha un suo senso che però è precluso alla comprensione umana. NONONO. Non c'è niente oltre, nulla che abbia un senso per lo meno, epperò il buon Thacker lì ci vuole andare lo stesso, e per farlo vuole a tutti i costi costruire una mistica del nulla e del vuoto che non contempli più l'esistenza dell'uomo e della sua mente. E con cosa vuole arrivare là dove nessun uomo è mai giunto prima? Ma con il linguaggio filosofico occidentale, ovvio!

Altra criticità: una trattazione filosofica che si propone un progetto tanto ambizioso dovrebbe includere nella sua speculazione tutte le tradizioni umane, tutto il folklore e la mitologia, tutto il sentire religioso e mistico, se davvero vuole operare una sintesi che sia valevole per l'intera razza umana (anche se poi questa è votata in ogni caso all'annichilimento insensato, non si scampa). Perciò mi chiedo quali frutti potrebbe cogliere un non-cristiano/non-occidentale da una trattazione che parla solo di demoni cristiani e magia occidentale per spiegare la sua idea di Vuoto Cosmico? Davvero il mondo-per-noi di Thacker è limitato alla sola sensibilità occidentale? Come può quell' "orrore della filosofia" tradursi in una "filosofia dell'orrore" se mi basta essere un monaco tibetano per sfuggire a tutte le sue premesse e dunque a tutte le sue conclusioni?

Naturalmente è necessario attendere la pubblicazione dei restanti due volumi per sciogliere tanti di questi dubbi, ma per quanto letto fino ad ora devo ammettere, con rammarico, che il nichilismo di Thacker non è né nuovo nelle conclusioni né originale nell'impostazione e, soprattutto, non mi ha procurato il minimo brivido (cosmico) esistenziale.

[Josh Doughty · Rating 4 out of 5]

“On the one hand we as human beings are the problem; on the other hand at the planetary level of the Earth’s deep time, nothing could be more insignificant than the human.”

Was going towards 3 stars as the meat of the book wanted to link magic circles and occult stuff that doesn’t interest me personally, but really picks up around the final third of the book.

I might continue the series. Thacker was really good and linking points to each other and everything was cohesive like an adequately mixed song.

I might not if it’s more of the “supernatural” spectrum of things like this one.


I will be looking into more of his works outside of this trilogy if anything at all.

[Andy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The "Cosmic Pessimism" expressed in this book is a lot like the ideas explored so eloquently in Thomas Ligotti's "The Conspiracy Against the Human Race." In fact I doubt most readers would really need to read both. I would personally recommend Ligotti's book over this one, it's going to be more interesting, to-the-point and frankly makes a bigger impact on the reader. But Thacker's work tackles a lot of the same issues from different angles.

The basic idea of "Cosmic Pessimism" as I read it, is that this world is indifferent to us, it's not meant for us, we're just a mistake and can only see the world through our human perspective. Because of our limited perspective what Thacker is trying to show us is very difficult and nebulous to grasp. Various forms of horror fiction have tried to express it, and he uses these as starting points to explore this idea.

He explores the figure of the Demon in mythology. Humans have often believed in malific forces that surround them and influence their lives. As we moved into the modern world the figure has become mere metaphor for psychological damage, or sociological conflict. But Thacker wants to express a more philosophical view of the demon as the limit of human knowledge. When we attempt to view the demon through these anthropological lenses it loses some of it's original meaning as something that is beyond our understanding. He gives an interesting example in Dante's Inferno of the anthropomorphic demons which appear human-like, compared with the invisible demonic winds that torture the Lustful, blowing them back and forth throughout eternity.

Next he tackles human interactions with the supernatural in horror fiction and films. The magic circle appears in horror fiction and is used in rituals to invoke spirits. The magic circle evolved and became less literal, yet the contradictory "hidden knowledge" that is revealed is increasingly troubling and again reveals this indifferent universe. Apart from revealing the "hiddenness" of the world with a magic ritual, there's figures in horror fiction like mists and ooze which attack humankind. These in themselves are impersonal and indifferent to mankind and roam about absorbing what they come into contact with. But in one example the ooze is something that is seemingly pure sentience.

The third section dragged a bit for me, but has some interesting things in it. Here he engages in a fascinating and often very rambling discourse on "Life," not the life of individual organisms, but of all life. This is a concept that is always just outside of reach, most studies that begin with this as their central idea devolve into systems of natural history (studies of individual organisms) or theology. This driving force behind living things remains elusive to us. There's also discussion of the afterlife, the living dead and biblical plagues.

In the final section he dissects a poem about the formation of life, and primarily discussing the mystics and what they have to tell us that strict religion and hard-line science cannot.

Thacker's exploration of Lovecraft's story "From Beyond" is really excellent, revealing things I hadn't thought about. The same can be said for Leiber's story "Black Gondolier." His coverage of Bataille's "The Accursed Share" was great too, which has some fascinating concepts in it not far from those of Ligotti's work.

[Christy McDaniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was when Thacker dipped significantly into (and then stayed in) the subject of Black Metal that I realized I needed the next and final volumes rather than this one. While I did enjoy it, some of the connections were a little thin/thinly constructed. I noticed the same sort of comment from another reader--the references to some stunningly esoteric ideas were interesting, but he more often than not failed to make tight connections between those references, his examples, and the larger positions of the work. For instance, while I understand what he's getting at when he focuses on the concepts of the world-in-itself/world-without-us (although I found the constructions kind of cheeky, though I don't know if he meant them that way), etc., it was still a bit thready as he moved into the world of demonology in an attempt (I guess) to illuminate aspects of these concepts. That didn't work for me. I'm not sure I always followed his reasoning.

I understood what he was doing most of the time, however, and appreciated it even if it didn't hold my interest completely in spots and even when he appears to fall short with the supporting logic. It's a pretty ambitious undertaking, and I like that quality of it. He was working with some fairly complicated ideas, on whole.

I appreciated most when he wrapped-up the Occult and began the project of situating current versions of (Horror-rooted/genre)"mysticism" in the world of ecology: our "beyond science and faith" approach to it. It's not nature worship; it's not the white stag and the Wild Hunt necessarily, though I think one could do some nifty readings of Barron using aspects of his theories, but a sort of ecology stripped-down to its processes and illuminated, somehow beyond both science and spirituality(still not entirely clear on this--I'll tinker with it a bit more and see what I might have missed). It reminded me of a discussion I had a while ago about what exists "beyond" post-modernism, post-modern-post-modernism, and other silliness.

In that same vein, he does a nice, albeit short, reading of "From Beyond" that I enjoyed and found interesting. The connection with the "magic circle" is one that I never would have made. It wasn't until the final sections that I really began to appreciate his ideas, but that's mostly because he was moving into my areas of interest. I'm sure there are plenty of Horror fans whose passion is mysticism and occultism and who would prefer this volume to the others that I (frustratingly--I'm spoiled now) must wait on for delivery.

I recommend this to anyone who is serious about their exploration of the theoretical approaches to Horror/Horror's place (not a "new" one at all!) in the realm of critical theory. Note that folks who approach this with an eye towards his use of specific philosophical ideas (the rigor of their implementation, etc.) rather than, say, Horror nerds could certainly and easily rip this thing apart. However, it is fun stuff for those of us who love Horror and seek to dig into its meaning a bit more deeply. I expect to really enjoy Volumes two and three.

[Miguel Lupián · Rating 5 out of 5]

Este libro me lo recomendó Rafael Villegas y quedé fascinado (si así se le puede llamar al estado de perturbación gozosa). Aunque los temas filosóficos suelen ser pesados y laberínticos, Thacker, sin perder profundidad, los aligera empleando referencias literarias (Lovecraft, Shiel, Blackwood, Hodgson, Marlowe, Goethe, Le Fanu, Fort, Blish, Ligotti, Miéville, Ito, Ballard, Shelley...), cinematográficas (La cosa, La niebla, The Devil Rides Out, La mancha voraz, Caltiki, el monstruo inmortal, El monstruo sin rostro, la obra de Cronenberg, Bergman, Argento...) y musicales (Sum 0))), World, Keiji Haino (a quien recomiendo escuchar mientras lees este libro)). Thacker es un gondolero que nos pasea por las aguas negras de lo oculto para explicarnos la evolución del satanismo, paganismo y pesimismo cósmico, de lo demoniaco, del color negro, de lo numinoso, de lo otro, de los monstruos... todo sustentado con teorías y doctrinas filosóficas. Al terminar de leerlo se cernirá sobre ti el silencio, la oscuridad, la nada. Ahora mismo buscaré los otros dos volúmenes de esta trilogía filosófica/terrorífica.

[David Zerangue · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have made periodic commentary as I read each section of the book. I broke it up into four sections so that I could manage this intellectually. Otherwise, it would have been just a bunch of words without meaning. There is nothing easy about this book. It is hard from the concepts posed as well as the prose employed. Sometimes it read like a thesis (Sections 1 and 3). Other times it was quite readable (Sections 2 and 4). Eugene Thacker brings to focus what is normally fleeting thoughts for most people. To actually focus on it is mentally trying and scary. So, we tend to ignore it. Honestly, this is what religion was made for (insignificance is just too scary). Take every notion you have ever heard described as Light and invert that to Dark and this is where the book goes. Fascinating, honestly. Not Dark in a bad way but more in a 'not to be understood' way.
I am sure many RadioLab listeners have attempted this book since hearing the episode about it. I hope each of you was able to stick it out!

[C. Varn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thacker's knack for arcana and esoterica can be a little much here, as other reviewers have noted, a passing knowledge of middle demonology helps. Thacker's use of horror as a entry way into the the profoundly unhuman, and a good means against anthropocentrism. His use of Lovecraft and Bataille is quite admirable and while the neologism can be a little clear, they are much more interesting than a lot of the Derridian philosophy of the 1980s/1990s. Furthermore, for a philosophy book, this book is distinctly fun to read.

[Diletta · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sulla via per l'estinzione verso il nulla una guida per comprendere cosa non esiste (o forse sì) attraverso cerchi magici, demonologia, melme, miasmi e altri capisaldi orrifici. Da attendere gli altri due.

[Camilla Fois · Rating 2 out of 5]

Per me è un grandissimo no.
Ci sono molti aspetti non all'altezza delle premesse, ecco, le premesse sono il problema. Se questo libro fosse stato presentato come un'opera che mette a confronto vari autori e fenomeni più pop, ad un livello di idee e letteratura, sarebbe stato meno problematico. Nel momento in cui la premessa è un'indagine filosofica, quindi con la sua struttura e, di fatto, continua ad essere un saggio di letteratura, è palese che c'è un problema enorme. Tutti i riferimenti bibliografici sono azzeccati ma insuffincientemente esposti, chi decide di citare filosofi importanti (ricordiamo, in un saggio in teoria, di filosofia) deve avere quantomeno un'impostazione che sia più profonda di quella che si trova in questo libro, che è banalmente superficiale. Qua il problema principale è quello, le analisi filosofiche sono insufficienti, quelle letterarie sono invece la parte più interessante. Altro tasto dolente: il Black Meta, che viene a malapena citato, di lato, giusto per infilarlo dentro; la trattazione sull'Horror è una delle cose più riuscite, invece. Gli inserti di cultura Popolare non sono organici, risultano quasi come elenchi, sembra che non vengano incorporati nella struttura, risultando quasi alieni. Ci sono autori, come Fisher e Žižek, che invece usano questi strumenti a supporto del proprio apparato filosofico in maniera impeccabile e fluida, qua non sono riuscita a trovare altrettanto. Essendo il primo libro di una trilogia, abbuono il fatto che sia soltanto una premessa infinita, senza un minimo barlume di indagine (non risposte, quelle non sono mai necessarie). La parte che ho apprezzato di più è l'ultima, che forse è la più centrata, dove l'emergenza climatica funge da cuscinetto teorico.
È un libro che può piacere moltissimo a chi non ha competenze specifiche, e può sicuramente offrire spunti di riflessione molto interessanti.

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was another on the library’s new acquisition shelf to draw my eye. Actually, the publisher caught my eye, as I tend to enjoy Zer0 books but they rarely make their way into libraries. Then the blurb began, ‘The world is increasingly unthinkable - a world of planetary disasters, emerging pandemics, and the looming threat of extinction.’ How could I possibly resist? I was to find, however, that ‘In The Dust of This Planet’ (a glorious title) dwelt more in the past than the present. It contains a great deal about demonology and the occult, grounded in philosophy and theology centuries old. The range of cultural references is certainly broad, from Plato to an anonymous internet poet, early articulations of the Faust story to ‘Uzumaki’ (a creepy manga that friends have told me enough about that I don't want to read it). While I enjoyed the somewhat incongruous juxtapositions that this afforded, I struggled to get at the book’s overall thesis. To be fair, Thacker seemed like too subtle a writer for a clear and obvious single idea to emerge. I appreciated his tendency to qualify and counter-argue points. Perhaps the most memorable point was made early on concerning ‘the enigmatic concept of the world’:

We can even abbreviate these three concepts further: the world-for-us is simply the World, the world-in-itself is simply the Earth, and the world-without-us is simply the Planet.

This neat taxonomy, with obvious relevance to environmental destruction, returns near the end of the book in a commentary on Georges Bataille’s 'The Congested Planet':

It is a dilemma expressed in contemporary discourse on climate change, between a debate over the world-for-us (e.g. how do we as human beings impact - negatively or positively - the geological state of the planet?), and a largely unspoken, whispered query over the world-in-itself (e.g. to what degree is the planet indifferent to us as human beings, and to what degree are we indifferent to the planet?).

This taxonomic discussion was to me the centre of the book, although it was woven in with a great deal about mysticism, theology, and ooze that I saw more as intellectual curiosities. When it comes to environmental philosophy, I find myself preferring the more focused approach of, for example, Timothy Morton’s The Ecological Thought.

I was a little disappointed by Thacker’s discussion of Dante’s Inferno, in part because I didn’t agree with his interpretation of, “What I was once, alive, I still am, dead!” Still, it was nice to realise that I actually have opinions about the Inferno, something of which I was not previously aware. One reference I was delighted to see pop up was Shiel’s The Purple Cloud, an extraordinary apocalyptic novel from 1901 that I read earlier this year. Now that Thacker does do justice to, comparing it with Hoyle’s The Black Cloud (a book I regularly see in the library but do not borrow because it seems similar to so many others) and J. G Ballard’s first novel The Wind from Nowhere (which I haven’t read either, but certainly sounds like J.G. Ballard’s first novel ought to). What links the three is apparently mist; I liked the comparison of Shiel’s slightly demented mysticism with Hoyle’s scientific rationalism and Ballard’s ambiguity.

Moreover, I smiled at the commentary on Roland Emmerich disaster movies. I’m not a great horror fan, but I’ve seen all of Emmerich’s stupid global catastrophe blockbusters multiple times. Something in me loves the morbid spectacle of civilisation collapsing dramatically. Thacker notes that the threat to civilisation evolves from alien invasion (Independence Day, 1996), to anthropogenic climate change (The Day After Tomorrow, 2004 - my personal favourite), to arbitrary heating up of Earth’s core (2012, 2009), so from external to internal to incomprehensible. I agree with Thacker that these films exhibit ‘implicitly or explicitly, eschatological themes’.

Perhaps my favourite comment in the whole book, though, is as follows:

Whereas the three previous figures dealt with allegorical modes associated that reflected class dynamics (zombie-working class, vampire-aristocratic, demon-bourgeois), the ghost deals with the that strange or unknown provenance after life.

Although I’m not sure how to interpret ‘provenance’ in that sentence, I need hardly explain why I enjoyed it. What social class would werewolves allegorise? The peasantry? There was certainly fun to be found in this book, but it was more interested in themes of horror in the past than the ‘unthinkable world’ of today. At the very end, Thacker admits that his conclusion, about the need to think through nihilism to the other side, to the ‘emptiness beyond the empty’, is not helpful. This is a rather frustrating note to conclude on, despite the interest and amusement to be found in the rest of the book.

[Perry · Rating 3 out of 5]

Redundant as philosophy (Mostly reheated Conspiracy Against the Human Race leftovers), somewhat interesting as literary criticism, wonderful as a catalog of weird books, essays, etc.

[Spencer · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Thy mind o man! . .must search into and contemplate the darkest abyss, and the broad expanse of eternity- thou must commune with God."

-Joseph Smith (or was it H.P. Lovecraft?)

I kept thinking of that quote as I read this book. it is both beautiful and horrific. An adult prostrates himself before God the silent mountain. In awe and reverence. He communes vs attempts to communicate. God sits with him like a father sits with his dying cancer riddled child. His silence does not denote an absence but a stillness. And we live in this dark abyss, not a yellow submarine. Years of quiet and "emptiness" like Mother Theresa experienced- "i have come to love the darkness for I believe now that it is a very., very small part of Jesus' darkness and pain". To know God, to have any sort of mystical experience with the awesome nature of the divine goes way beyond the image of Jesus giving a child a hug. It requires a stay in the lonesome valley.

This book is an exploration of the flipside of theology, At least I think so. It took me a few months to read and I only understood every other word. There is good stuff about Norwegian Black Metal, Gustave Dore woodcuts, demons, non-being, horror films as philosophical texts, unsettling mists, the extinction of life.

He referenced some minimalist soundscape stuff from Keiji Haino that plays like the soundtrack to the leviathan engulfing the earth or maybe just becoming completely unhinged. (Not playing on a radio anytime soon but good in small doses.) I was trying to imagine the visual art equivalent to some of what he was talking about. And although there is far more maelstrom in a Turner painting, The experience of an abstract Rothko seems to be more of a peering into the abyss. I have heard stories of people staring into the Rothkos at the Rothko chapel in Houston and being reduced to a giant baby floating in space like in 2001 wha?

[Sceox]

This turned out to be more about mysticism (what ET intriguingly describes as a "dark mysticism") than I first thought it would. A turn that has now happened with more than a few books I've read in the past year, and in the end a pleasant alternative to some of the directions Dust might have gone from the starting provocations.

Some of the early sections are rough around the edges, as I believe some reviewers mentioned. They read like preparatory notes toward some more extensive work, which I look forward to reading. Here ET draws more on cultural sources: the Inferno, pulp horror, music, B movies, TV shows, and the like, rather than mystical or philosophical texts. I was vaguely interested in what he had to say about the cultural material, but none of these are really my thing, and I suppose were there for those who have different inclinations than I do.

The parts that did draw more on philosophical and mystical writings resulted in several writers/texts being added to my list: Schopenhauer, about whom I'd felt ambivalent at best until ET's compelling summary of World as Will and Representation; Bataille, someone I've wanted to read for years now but now there's some more emphasis and another title; Keiji Nishitani's Religion and Nothingness, which ET brings in for Dust's dramatic conclusion (for those who are interested in the question of nihilism, there is a lovely gesture here); and M Shelley's The Last Man (ET doesn't deal with it in any length, but it was a reminder). Also, my interest was piqued in both Meister Eckhart and John of Ávila, though to a lesser degree. And, not to forget, ET's own After Life.

Overall I wasn't blown away, but was swayed as by a gentle breeze in Dust's general direction.

[David Walsh · Rating 4 out of 5]

An odd book, and it certainly starts in a peculiar manner, debating the meaning of "black" in "black metal". A topic I would struggle to devote genuine interest. Nonetheless as it progresses, and perhaps as the reader develops a familiarity with Thacker's rhythm, some great insights emerge.

"...in occult philosophy today the world simply reveals its hiddenness to us."

"...an era almost schizophrenically poised between religious fanaticisms and a mania for scientific hegemony..."

"What if "horror" has less to do with a fear of death, and more to do with the dread of life?"

Although, not as deep or meaningful as some of the above quotes, I thought the allegorical associations of zombies to rising underclasses, of vampire to romantic, but decaying aristocracy and demons to a middle class burgeois was quite interesting.

The linguistic contrivance that resulted in the following phrase, "extinction is the non-being of life that is not death.", was for me, the logical nadir.

The book finished strongly with cosmic nihilism and mysticism.

"We can also think of mysticism as actually enabled by overly optimistic, "gee-whiz" scientific instrumentality, in which the Earth is the divinely-sanctioned domain of the human, even and especially in the eleventh hour of climate change."

"...darkness mysticism retains the language of shadows and nothingness, as if the positive union with the divine is of less importance than the realization of the absolute limits of the human."

"...we should delve deeper into this abyss, this nothingness, with may hold within a way out of the dead end of nihilism."

[Oliver Brackenbury · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third book I've read that was in some way connected to True Detective, but it was actually hearing it endorsed by Warren Ellis and listening to an episode of Radiolab (http://www.radiolab.org/story/dust-pl...) about the strange story around the book's cover ending up in a Jay-Z/Beyonce video that pushed me over the edge.

Only a few pages in, I pulled out a highlighter and a pen to make notes along the way. This is a great book, but it's also a very dense one that makes little attempt to be more accessible then, say, a bachelor level literary criticism text. I had to remind myself about terms like "onotological", for example, and there were long sections where scanning simply wasn't enough to properly absorb what was being said.

Which is fine! Books should be challenging sometimes. Is it worth the challenge? I'd say "Yes", especially if you are thinking about writing horror - and not just the cosmic variety this book may give the impression of focusing on. While I felt it got a bit weak between the middle and the end, there was such a strong first half that I hung in and felt suitably rewarded by the conclusions of the final few pages. I'm definitely interested in reading the next volume (of which there are two to expect, apparently).

[Cody Sexton · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is increasingly difficult to comprehend the world in which we live and of which we are not a part. To confront this idea is to confront an absolute limit to our ability to adequately understand the world at all - an idea that has been a central motif of the horror genre for some time.
To confront the unthinkable, is to confront the limits of our ability to understand the world in which we live. When we do that, Thacker says, we come to a sobering realization: that there might not be a purpose to things, or to your life, or to your existence, or to the cosmos; that there might not be an order; that we’re not here for a reason; that it’s arbitrary and an accident. And therein lies the aversion to nihilism and pessimism. Nihilism poses difficult philosophical questions—questions that may have no answers.
The world has no reason. "For everything in nature there is something to which no ground can ever be assigned, for which no explanation is possible, and no further cause is to be sought."

[Andrew Nolan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good, easy to follow simple pessimistic philosophy text. It seems to be constructed of some pieces that were initially written as standalone work, which means certain sections feel like they're reaching a little/ aren't entirely in sync with the books overall narrative arch.

The last chapter is specious at best and to me does not pass the "so what?" test that needs to be applied to academic writing. At worst it makes me question the validity of everything that came before it.

Curious to see where the series goes next.

[Vrixton Phillips · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's certainly thought-provoking, but it took me such a long time to read, I couldn't tell you what it's about beyond "horror" "philosophy" and the various combinations of the two...
from a Scholastic perspective, at that. Or at least he alludes to Scholasticists a lot.