Learned Ignorance or Docta Ignorantia

by Nicolas Cusa, Marciano Guerrero (Introduction)

Cusa's mystical-religious philosophy was set forth in his essays De Docta Ignorantia (Of Learned Ignorance), which was published in 1440. This work consists of three books: the first deals with God (the Self Maximus considered absolutely), the second deals with the universe (Self maximum contracted in the Plurality of Things), and the third of Jesus Christ (Self up as contracted and all at once). The title -which is an oxymoron- has a deep significance. On the one hand it relates to Socrates' irony -"I only know that I know nothing"- in the belief that it is impossible for a student to deepen his knowledge in his search for truth. It is also a negative theology, the recognition that the Being of God cannot be reached by our understanding. Our current edition presents an illustrated version of the First Book

158 pages, Paperback

Published June 9, 2016

Reviews

[B. Rule]

What a curiously modern book! Nicholas uses medieval forms of argument, but the content could be mistaken for contemporary analysis of infinities, aporia, and apophatic mysticism. It also seems to me, in my humble opinion, that Nicholas is having some fun too. When he shows his proof that an infinite line, circle, and triangle are all the same thing, it's both an elegant proof for negative theology, and an absurdly funny intellectual display of deconstruction that would be at home in Derrida. While Nicholas is arguing for a theistic divinity, his arguments are not exclusive to the Christian tradition, and could serve as a fertile meditation focus for anyone interested in thinking about the infinite and how to think beyond thought. Great complement to Dionysius the Areopagite for readers of Christian mysticism.

[Sam Eccleston]

Genuinely brilliant exploration of the violence done by concepts like infinity and eternity to the proposition did theology, set out through simple geometric metaphors. Almost post-modern in its embrace of ambiguity and paradox, but eschewing the needless jargon-laden verbosity characteristic of both postmodern and indeed some scholastic works this reads almost like a contemporary argument.