This is a remarkable, and now famous, volume of philosophical studies. The essays span and connect topics in the philosophy of language, aesthetics, and a criticism of literature, drama and music. The style and the range and integration of interests are alike individual, ambitious and arresting. The book is a distinguished personal work, of permanent interest and value.
Stanley Cavell was an American philosopher. He was the Walter M. Cabot Professor of Aesthetics and the General Theory of Value at Harvard University. He worked in the fields of ethics, aesthetics, and ordinary language philosophy. As an interpreter, he produced influential works on Wittgenstein, Austin, Emerson, Thoreau, and Heidegger. His work is characterized by its conversational tone and frequent literary references.
Cavell is now my favorite post mid-20th century philosopher. I am equally impressed by his intellectual integrity and particular ideas. I will first discuss Cavell's intellectual virtues. Then, I will introduce a few of the main ideas in this essay collection. Cavell sets out, in his introduction, with the point that contemporary philosophy strives to be a science. But the subject matter of philosopher is essentially about our human experience, which is always open to interpretation and re-creation; this is unlike the subject matter of science, which is static and absolute. Cavell strives to reawaken philosophy to this fact of its nature: that it is a humanistic or artistic discipline, and its aspiration should be to improve self-knowledge (self as not an individual per say, but as the community, as humanity).
That is just one part of his intellectual integrity. The other part is his approach in all the essays in this collection. In dealing with any topic, Cavell often shows that the each opposing side in the respective debate are too hasty in denying the validity of the other side. But this often reflects and perpetrates positions' talking past one another. Cavell skillfully analyzes both opposing sides, shows the truths in each, and lets them talk to one another. Over this kind of process, Cavell arrives at his own positions. I am totally guilty of this sort of over-hasty reaction to positions I disagree with; it is so much easier to be this way. No one likes to be wrong, and I at least, unintentionally, react in this way out of fear that I might be wrong, out of the impulse to make my position appear larger and scarier. Cavell never does that. He provides a role model for how to do good philosophy. His genuine listening to and taking seriously opposing sides in the end lets his own position be all the stronger.
Now, to turn to Cavell's ideas. Many of these essays are unified by this theme, taken from late Wittgenstein: any person individually might believe that her words express a certain meaning, but such beliefs have no impact on the actual meaning that she ultimately expresses. That actual meaning is determined by socio-normative conditions (e.g., linguistic conventions, contextual features, and ultimately our forms of life, or overall social roles and cultures in which those are embedded). Ordinary language philosophy (e.g. J. L. Austin and Gilbert Ryle) is all about revealing the actual meaning of certain phrases that philosophers use, and in doing so, clarify under what specific circumstances these philosophers' intended meaning can hold (often these circumstances are bizarre or unusual, while these philosophers believe that their conclusions hold in general, outside those particular circumstances).
For example, think about when we see other people. Say, I see you when I take a stroll around the neighborhood. You wave at me, or say hello. But I refuse to acknowledge you. This refusal inevitably expresses the meaning of my indifference or coldness towards it. It cannot count as a simple absence, a negation of acknowledgment. Similarly, in all our uses of language, there are certain meanings that our words can and cannot express; these possibilities are determined by conditions external to us, as the condition that we are self-aware and social creatures ethically bound to one another determines that a refusal of acknowledgement cannot be meaningless and must express coldness. Cavell uses this insight to address certain problems in philosophy and aesthetics.
For example, "Knowing and Acknowledging" (the ninth essay) deals with skepticism regarding other minds, or particularly whether anybody other than oneself actually experiences pain. This skepticism is motivated by this notion: only you can know your pain; anybody else would have to observe your behavior and infer to the fact that you feel pain. Such inferentially mediated knowledge is always fallible, while the former direct knowledge is infallible.
Cavell argues that such skepticism is unwarranted. He does this by asking what meaning is expressed by the words that we "know" something. In saying that you know your own pain, this really means that you are the owner of your pain. Knowledge is, in principle, a matter of acknowledging something that is expressed. It is always fallible. So the more accurate way to phrase our relation to our own vs. other's pains is this: You do not know your pain, but rather your "knowledge" of pain is identical to the pain itself, to the experience of this sensation. You only know that other people experience pain, in that you grasp the fact that their behavior expresses this pain. So the skeptic is right that when we know (or acknowledge) each other's pains, this acknowledgment does not amount to infallible or absolute certainty. But we never demand this kind of infallibility of knowledge. So we do and can know that other people are in pain (and more generally, have minds and experiences, etc.), and it's just that sometimes others can conceal the fact that they have pain, which hinders our knowledge. The skeptical conclusion that we can never really know whether another is in pain is unwarranted.
Here are my favorite essays in this collection. "Must We Mean What We Say" covers Cavell's central point that the meaning our words express are determined by conditions external to ourselves. He also raises this very interesting question: Can philosophers simply say that when they use terms found in ordinary language (e.g., the skeptical philosopher's claim that "tables do not exist"), can they simply use their terms (e.g., "existence") in an expertise-unique way? After all, scientists do this all the time. Scientists talk about electrons "leaping", for example; this term is used in an expertise-unique, in that it does not refer to "leaping" as we typically use this term in ordinary language. Cavell argues No!, philosophers cannot make this move. If a skeptic, for example, really used the term "existence" is a non-ordinary sense, then the skeptic's claim should be perfectly compatible with our ordinary claims that tables do exist; the skeptic should not feel anything counterintuitive or bewildering about her claim. But the skeptic is bewildered; think of Descartes and Hume who are worried to death about the skeptical implications of their views. So, philosophy must use terms in an ordinary language sense.
In "The Availability of Wittgenstein's Later Philosophy" Cavell criticizes a certain typical understanding of Wittgenstein and presents his own understanding (which has inspired the "New Wittgensteinian" school of interpretation). In "Ending the Waiting Game" Cavell examines Samuel Beckett's play Endgame; it is both a fascinating demonstration of the methods of ordinary language philosophy, and a poignant, cutting analysis of our modern culture. In "The Avoidance of Love," Cavell examines Shakespeare's King Lear with an eye to addressing the question: In what way do fictional characters exist? (It is easy to say that they don't exist as real people do, but how exactly do they exist then?). This has implications for understanding the significance of tragic art and our existential situation.
I would highly recommend this collection to anyone interested in language, ordinary language philosophy, Wittgenstein, existentialism, or aesthetics; or more generally, anyone looking for inspiration (a role model) for how we can do philosophy today in a manner that is sincere, rigorous, and humanistic.
Deepest, richest, most illuminating, world changing and hence most moving book I have ever read. It is not just a philosophical work, it is also a tragedy and a beautiful piece of music if you hear the words...
Cavell is really one of the legends in philosophy of language, and really underappreciated by those who are outside of the sub-discipline. Because so much of the 20th century analytic literature is about language, even when it's not the direct object of study, reading Cavell is really useful for understanding that. It is useful for getting a different perspective than the more strongly-worded, aggressive philosophers like Quine or Searle. I really enjoyed this approach, partly because Cavell is willing to take on a number of serious questions (including the titular one) that problematize restrictive theories of language, and he does it in a thorough way.
I don't really think that the book is all that accessible, and probably wouldn't recommend it unless someone was really interested in this particular question. That said, I enjoyed reading it, from a historical standpoint, because I'm fascinated by the questions that people were asking during the middle part of the 20th century and I found Cavell a nice contributor to them. If you're going to wander down the rabbit hole of philosophy of language and the theories of Anglo-American philosophers of the 20th century, from Austin to Searle to Quine to Hacker, and so on down the line, Cavell is worth reading in part because he's a lot more enjoyable than some of the more technical work by those guys. That said, that whole body of literature is really difficult and dry, and so "more enjoyable" is really a relative claim.
"Philosophy concerns those necessities we cannot, being human, fail to know. Except that nothing is more human than to deny them."
Stanley Cavell's Must We Mean What We Say? offers a rich and layered exploration of philosophy, drawing from language, skepticism, and aesthetics to engage with profound questions about our relationship to ourselves, others, and the world. Cavell’s writing is often dense and his ideas elusive, but this very complexity invites the reader into a deeper reflection on how language shapes our understanding of the world and ourselves.
Cavell writes that "ordinary language philosophy is about whatever ordinary language is about," expressing his desire for philosophy to engage with anything in human experience. He invites us to consider even those areas philosophy sometimes neglects—such as the arts or the subtleties of daily life. For Cavell, there is a profound significance in the seemingly mundane, as he notes that Beckett finds the extraordinary ordinary and Chekhov finds the ordinary extraordinary. This reflection opens up an expansive philosophical space where the ordinary is anything but insignificant, and instead becomes a focal point for inquiry into the human condition.
In another striking formulation, Cavell writes, "Nothing is more human than to deny [human necessities]," pointing to the philosophical tension between the human and the transcendent effort, a theme that reverberates throughout his work. Cavell's ability to identify and illuminate the many complexities he addresses makes his philosophy not just about abstract theorising but about engaging with the very essence of what it means to be human.
For me, the experience of reading this collection was both intellectually stimulating and quite demanding, but also unexpectedly calming (maybe because it drew my attention away from the business of my daily life?). And, though at times challenging to follow, Cavell’s insights rewarded my dedicated attention, leading to moments of uplifting clarity. His work encourages a kind of mindfulness that reaches into everyday life, offering perspectives that can help us reflect more thoughtfully on our daily interactions and choices... I will no doubt reread this book later in life.
I want to preface this by saying that Stanley Cavell, rest his soul, is a true genius and deserves every bit of success and recognition he rightfully has in the philosophy world. Any criticism I have of this book is PURELY a result of my own stupidity and lack of culture. It is no doubt a groundbreaking and beautifully argued work.
However, I must confess: I can't bring myself to care. I see reviews by people here saying that this is the best book they have ever read. I mean, as Cavell might say, perhaps we, and by "we" I mean these reviewers and I if there is to be a "we" at all, just inhabit different worlds. Cavell starts with particulars, specific debates, to answer big questions, but for the life of me I cannot resonate with these debates. For example, in the chapter on aesthetic judgment, Cavell philosophically destroys an ongoing debate between various philosophers on... the relation between paraphrase and poetry? He brings in Kant etc which is very cool. (But ultimately Cavell and Kant kind of mean the same thing with 'we say' and 'I think' respectively due to 'universal judgment' [Kantian concept] so whats the point of this new thing?) But frankly speaking, the question of paraphrasing poetry is one I NEVER ASKED and one I never cared to know. And as it turns out at the end of the segment, Cavell doesnt even MEAN "paraphrase" like how I thought it did, so MY ordinary understanding is just different from the OLPers'. So what's my understanding worth then? Perhaps I am suffering from the most tragic disease of all....
Reading it does aid in my understanding of argumentation. But what are the broader implications? Perhaps I am suffering from a craving for generality. But why is that so bad? Because Wittgenstein said it was? Many wonderful scientific advancements have been made from the craving for generality.
I read this years ago. Cavell's methods of practicing, and commenting on, ordinary language philosophy has produced some of the deepest and most engaging writing and thought that I have encountered.
A terrific collection of essays. The final piece, on Shakespeare's Lear, may be the best essay on the play I've read. But all of the essays are stunning pieces of writing, complex but jargon-free.
In the early pages of this book, Stanley Cavell suggests that nothing has kept philosophy from being understood so much as philosophy itself. Despite his protests that philosophy must remain free from the esotericism inherent in regarding itself as a self-enclosed discipline, Cavell appears to have written a book that is largely about the twisting pathway philosophy has followed in its course through the 20th century. Regardless of the merits of throwing additional light on the nature of language-philosophy, I find Mr. Cavell guilty of an act I associate with the majority of academic philosophers since the late 19th century: Like many other academics, he takes a specific philosopher's work, in this case Wittgenstein, and imagines that it constitutes a normative function or, in essence, a foundational line of descent in that it establishes with certainty, as if from a fundamental act of creation or Genesis-point, so that it may be understood as originating as the philosophically more appropriate or 'better' view. My opinion in this matter is based on the fact that I consider the exclusion of the works of Karl Marx to constitute the reason why academic philosophers are paid to play a game of bait-and-switch in order to establish schools of thought where the system of power-dynamics that Marx revealed is destined to remain hidden beneath multiple layers of lawyerly and benumbing rhetoric. Cavell suggests that Albert Camus' famous statement - that suicide is the only fitting response to the absurdity of the modern life - is not an answer at all due to the fact that it simply removes the self from acting from the position of the observer. It seems to me that this has been understood by the powers that decide our fate in the world as an example of Cavell being on the side of Western value-systems to the extent that he has too much in common with the natural assumptions of language philosophy, despite his groundwork in for absurdist drama and his penchant for radically recasting the values of Shakespeare's tragedies. The end result is that he, too, must be relegated to the trash-bin of history because he stands as the embodiment of academic institutions of higher learning that, in the early years of the 21st century, seems to be on the verge of abandonment. Still living at the age of 92, I proposed we do an internet search and try to find out whether Stanley Cavell is in favor of those workers who best fit the needs of an economy based on skills rather than education and, even more to the point, on willingness to acquiesce to working market-supplied "gigs" in order to obtain sustenance in a world without either education of employment.
Denna essäsamling är tydligt tudelad i två kategorier: språkfilosofi och estetik kopplad till specifika verk. Den sistnämnda är oerhört ointressant även när jag har koll på verken den rör, men jag skippade de andra.
Språkfilosofin däremot är mycket välgjord. Dessvärre tråkigt och onödigt komplicerat skriven. Denna mans syntax är ett helvete. Poängerna han framför håller däremot bra.
Essän "The Availability of Wittgenstein's Later Philosophy" är däremot helt fantastisk. Borde läsas av alla som har något intresse av filosofi.
Reading this while thinking about how I once submitted an essay which I was told would be graded based on vulnerability, and then got called anti-climactic when I intellectualized my feelings (meant what I said but withheld exposure). And how when I later did reveal true vulnerability but then got blocked 🤣🌋👹 traumatic experience. My villain origin story pt.2 🔥🃏🔥
Stanley Cavell's Must we what we say? is an interesting, if at times frustrating, collection of essays. Cavell has a number of very interesting interpretations of Wittgenstein, modern art, and drama, but he is sometimes hampered by his disparate style of writing. The first few essays in this collection suffer from being overly technical, whilst later ones suffer from perhaps not being technical enough. The heart of the book, for me, are the two essays 'Music Discomposed' and 'A Matter of Meaning It.' Both deal with aesthetics (particularly, the aesthetics of the modern and modern music), and the connection between aesthetics and the meta-moral as acknowledgement. These two essays are when Cavell is at his best; he seems fully in control of his prose and ideas, and one is swept along by his writing and his ideas (although, arguing against Cavell in either of these essays would be extremely difficult I would presume, not because Cavell is 100% correct, but because he leaves you so little room to think within his thoughts differently than he does. You either accept them or you don't). The essay on Beckett's Waiting Game was quite interesting as was Cavell's analysis of Kierkegaard. The final essay 'The Avoidance of Love: A Reading of King Lear' was good, if, perhaps, a bit too long (Cavell seems to make his point about the half-way mark, especially if you've read the subsequent essays in the collection, and then continue to 'riff' for a bit, before returning to some incredible interesting points about art and American near the end of the essay). All in all, a very good collection of essays, and, although I am no expert, a good place to start to begin to understand Cavell.
Didn't read all the essays in this book because some of them are about Austin, music, or other books I haven't read, but I did read the ones on Kierkegaard and Wittgenstein. His essay knowing and acknowledging seemed to me to be a pretty standard reading of Wittgenstein's refutation of skepticism. I haven't and don't plan on reading Kierkegaard's book on Adler, but Cavell's essay on it was decent -- nothing particularly illuminating but I thought the parallels between Kierkegaard and Wittgenstein were interesting. The best essay in my opinion is clearly Availability of Wittgenstein's Later Philosophy which argues, against the popular conception of the time, that PI is both complex and a strong piece of philosophy.
Okay, so I still haven't read chapters 3,4,7 or 8, but there is enough in this book to think about for the next 4 years. I would explain this book as a meditation on our relationship to meaning and its traces--how we make it, are bound to it, fleeing from it, acknowledging it or going mad from it--but I'm not sure that would be helpful.
Cavell's essay on King Lear, The Avoidance of Love, was my first exposure to a serious philosophic encounter with literature, and has been my touchstone ever since, even though this particular essay is a bit of a baggy monster. When I first read it, I was severely anti-Kantian and argued against many of its points, I learned much from my opposition.
Students are forced to read many pretentious books in graduate school; this is one of the worst. The clarity of the title is in stark contrast to everything else in the book that is obscure. And I mean all that I say.