Philosopher's Holiday

by Irwin Edman

PHILOSOPHER'S HOLIDAY—Irwin Edman—VikingIrwin Edman was 21 when he began teaching philosophy at Columbia University. On the campus one day shortly afterwards he met his old professor, Felix Adler. "What are you doing now?" inquired the professor. "Teaching," said Edman. "Teaching what?" "Philosophy," said Edman. The old man patted the open-faced, blond youth on the back. "How cute!" he said.At 38, Edman was made a full Professor of Philosophy. Now 41, and one of Columbia's most popular professors, he is also credited, through his writings, with an increased attendance in philosophy courses at other colleges as well. As a teacher of philosophy he no longer runs the risk of being called cute. As a philosopher in his own right, he might still tempt some old philosopher to do so.Edman's own philosophy is a humanist cocktail whose chief ingredients are Plato, Santayana and Manhattan. It is the last component that shines, like a pickled cherry, out of Philosopher's Holiday, a tall, watery glassful of reminiscences, anecdotes and essays devoted to "persons and places, many of them obscure, about which I have occasionally told my friends over a glass of sherry. . . ." Son of a shirt & blouse manufacturer, Philosopher Edman still lives in the neighborhood where he was born and brought up, a stone's throw from Columbia University. He has "spent a long life" in Carnegie Hall and art galleries, writes light topical verse, travels much in Europe, wears thick glasses, has a bad stomach, and in general exhibits the intellectual precocity, the urbane humor, the tastes and the slightly nervous detachment which seem as native to Manhattan as The New Yorker.Professor Edman recalls with nostalgia his pleasant childhood and youth on Morningside Heights, the teachers who stimulated him, a few of his more picturesque students (some now stuffed shirts, some leading Communists); he writes of his travels, praises the English, meditates on music, relates an encounter with a big-shot Nazi in Greece. But the spotlight is on those amateur philosophers whom he numbers among the "Society of Itinerant Humanists." One was a French doctor who came to treat Edman's indigestion, launched instead into a discourse on Platonic philosophy. Another is his maid Maria, one of the best philosophers who ever kept a bachelor's apartment in order, and Edman's tribute is probably one of the sweetest portraits of a maid in literature.Along with these portraits Philosopher Edman does not neglect philosophical morals, which consist mainly of advice not to become panicky about the way the contemporary world is going. Spinoza, he points out, went on grinding lenses for a living while war and revolution raged around him in Holland, and Santayana, Edman's Master, meditates serenely on Essences under the very shadow of Mussolini's jaw. Readers will envy Philosopher Edman his ability to enjoy himself. They will not be able to figure out, from this book, quite how to imitate him and may wonder if his poise, his easy blend of academic and worldly man, does not derive as much from his temperament as from the study of philosophy.

Genres: Philosophy, Nonfiction

270 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1938

Reviews

[Nathan Albright · Rating 5 out of 5]

A week and a half ago, I saved this book from being tossed into the fireplace by agreeing to add it to my collection without ever having heard of it before. I knew nothing of its author, having never heard of him or any of his other works. To be sure, the title itself seemed a bit odd, since it was not clear at all what a philosopher's holiday would be. Upon reading this book, it quickly became evident that it was the sort of book I was actually somewhat familiar, in that it was an anecdote-based memoir in which the author somewhat doubted the state of his memory [1] and at the same time was writing about the glorious life of the mind, and the brotherhood that people have with like-minded people across the boundaries of race, class, and ethnicity [2]. And though this book was published in 1938, in reading this book I clearly see a kindred spirit, someone who ponders over questions of first and ultimate importance, and who is sensitive to those around him. Here is a book I came across by chance, and yet although separated by generations, the author of this book is someone I would likely have considered to be a friend, for all of our differences.

The book itself consists of 270 pages of reflections from the author's life that showed the influence of philosophy and background in various different aspects. This is not an autobiography in the sense of being a coherent narrative but is a collection of puzzle pieces to be put together by the reader, precisely the sort of memoir a philosophical person would be expected to write. The vignettes are organized into 20 chapters, on such subject matter as: the French doctor-cum-philosopher Monsieur Platon, organizations founded on intellectual interests, a philosophical sailor, various philosophical moments while traveling in Europe and the Middle East and dealing with pining lovers, lost English poets, and college students wrestling with the loss of traditional values around the world, music, an unpleasant run-in with a Nazi, nostalgic memories of old New York, sane Englishmen, the joys of being a philosopher sans portfolio, and kind thoughts towards a housemaid who enjoys serving well. This is a book full of enjoyment of the simple life of music and books, of good conversations with good friends over good food, and of the joy in meeting like-minded people wherever they can be found, in the knowledge that friendships among intellectual equals is something to be treasured no matter how varied the backgrounds or situations in life of the people involved.

This is a very good book, and certainly an extremely surprising one. That is not to say that it is perfect--the author is certainly quite irreligious in mindset, and of the smug intellectual leftist type that would be insufferable around election time. Even so, the author's sensitivity to social justice cannot be faulted, as it is a sensitivity I share, and the author is remarkably ecumenical in his own tastes--he appears to be a genuinely friendly person towards those philosophical people he happens to meet often randomly and by chance. He shares in the joys of his students (including the erudite Jacques Barzun) and also ponders what it is about philosophy that is worth studying for the ordinary person. This book is also prophetic in a way, in that several of the chapters of the book point to the immediate geopolitical problems of World War II and the Cold War (this, in 1938, was at least a little bit prescient) and also to the anti-intellectual rise of populism in our contemporary age, and even to the rise of political activism in the 1960's and beyond. The author would not have been happy to see the last few decades of Western Civilization, but looking at this book, he would likely not have been surprised either.

[1] See, for example:

https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...

https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...

[2] See, for example:

https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2014...

https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2017...

https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2012...

[Kevin McClain · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was cited by Kurt Stemhagen, President of the Southern Atlantic Philosophy of Education during the Keynote of the 2010 conference. He spoke of "coteries" of the mind, and it peaked by interest and so I got it and have been slowly working my way through it. Edman has a very readable style, (reminds me of Aldous Huxley) and it is obvious he is enjoying himself.

[YeOldeReader · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a pleasant read. The author provided a genial view of a number of people, places and ideas that he had encountered during the first third of the 20th century that he felt interesting or, at least, worth mentioning in an admittedly informal memoir.

[Himali Kothari · Rating 4 out of 5]

A memoir of a philosopher. Tongue-in-cheek with some laugh out loud moments. The reflective voice is fun and self-effacing. Some hilarious anecdotes which illustrate the author's approach to life in general.

[Melika · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked Edman's writing by means of great bias. Whether it was his days at Columbia, living in New York, traveling abroad, or teaching in the middle east, I found that I could relate to many aspects of his stories. This helped to ground it all, so that I could really believe what he was saying, imagining it fairly vividly. He often eloquently drops some samplings of his own philosophy here and there and I loved the little tastes of insight. The language was easy to absorb and the book read very well. A good read for anyone interested in philosophy, but I think that students of philosophy or students at columbia would enjoy it the most.