Kołakowski is one of the most underrated philosophers that deserves everyone's attention. After recently finishing his "Is God Happy: Selected Essays" I had to read another of his books. This, like the previous, is absolutely brilliant.
Like with my review of his other book, I will not get into the contents of the book itself but praise Kołakowski's style and rigour. The writing is clinical, concise, and captivating. If you want a serious examination of what he describes as our existential status of "Metaphysical Horror" - the search for the Absolute, or certainty and meaning in the cosmos - then you're set for a philosophical tour de force with Kołakowski's book.
Specific passages worth contemplating:
“A modern philosopher who has never experienced the feeling of being a charlatan is such a shallow mind that his work is probably not worth reading.” (p. 01)
“The Absolute is supposed to redeem the world, to save it from this never-beginning and never-ending death. In its eternal present everything is preserved, everything is protected and made permanent; nothing ever perishes. The Absolute provides the ultimate support for the existence of anything; it is the final subjugation of time. In order to perform this function, however, it must be not only immune to time but also perfectly self-contained and indivisible; consequently, we can never know how the (apparent) Nothingness of the universe is restored to the glory of being in the Eschaton's eternal unity without blasting that unity asunder. And since the Absolute […] cannot be conceptually reduced to anything else, its name, if there is one, is Nothing. So Nothing rescues another Nothing from its Nothingness.
This is the metaphysical horror.” (p. 58-59)
“[I]nsofar as the Absolute looms indistinctly on the horizon of all possible languages, invincibly elusive, never pinpointed, always groped for, it cannot, within the limits of our conceptual capacities, be conceived of as a person or a god. No communication with it is possible or needed; it cannot be addressed as 'Thou'. It is, rather, a symbolic entity, a powerless but extremely important constitutional monarch who lends the universe of things, minds, events and gods continuous ontic legitimacy but does not govern. Without it the lowest Nothingness would reign supreme. The Ultimum explains nothing, in the ordinary sense of the word 'explain'; we cannot define the sense in which it endows anything with reality, truth or goodness. But it is perhaps a necessary condition for anything's being real, true or good. The God-person, if He is the real governor of His universe, is not the Absolute — at least not in terms of what we can, however awkwardly, express. Hellenized Christian philosophy and some mystics say that He is both, despite our inability to make this identity clear. To say more, our minds and linguistic resources would have to expand beyond their present borders. But perhaps we are too bold to state with such confidence that this can never happen, and that we have reached the uppermost barriers of experience and speech.” (p. 59)
“The [metaphysical horror] has two poles: the Absolute and the self, or the Cogito.
Both are supposed to be bastions that shelter the meaning of the idea of existence. The former, once we try to reduce it to its perfect form, uncontaminated by contact with any less sublime reality, turns out to fade away into nothingness. The latter, on closer inspection, seems to suffer the same fate.” (p. 60)
“This is perhaps the most distressing feature of the entire history of philosophical debate about the Absolute. If the intuition of existence itself is indeed both perfectly simple and perfectly resistant to all attempts to express its content conceptually, we should accept it as it is — basic, irreducible, and naturally comprehensible to everyone. But if such an intuition existed, it would surely be strange for it to be forgotten. Assuming, however, that it was torn apart and finally consigned to oblivion by philosophers' attempts to analyse the unanalysable (and this was perhaps Gilson's contention), can the destructive work of philosophers be undone? If it can, it is probably not through further intellectual mediation, but rather by an outright dismissal of philosophy.” (p. 70)
“[T]here is no access to an epistemological absolute, nor any privileged access to absolute Being, such that might result in reliable theoretical knowledge. (This last restriction is needed, for we cannot a priori deny the reality of mystical experiences which provide some people with this privileged access; but their experience cannot be forged into a theory.) This double denial need not lead to pragmatic nihilism; it is compatible with the belief that metaphysical, non-pragmatic insight is possible as a result of our living within the realm of good and evil and experiencing good and evil as our own. But it does explain why philosophy, like Peter Pan, never matures.” (p. 106)
“But then we are back at the very beginning of our horror. For how can I opt for a particular language (or angle from which to see the world, or rule for interpreting all of experience) and stick to it without believing that it has privileged cognitive powers? And if I claim to have at my disposal a higher, or even an absolute, language, then either this language is suitable only for talking about other languages, not about the reality they refer to, or it is a standard language of which all other languages are incomplete dialects. If the latter, then such a language really is a divine tongue, absolute and embracing all conceivable points of view. But such a tongue is impossible. Even God, when talking through the mouths of prophets, has to translate Himself into a human language; the translation is inevitably distorting, and we have no access to the original. And if the former, then I cannot say so. For although my particular language (the first-degree language; the language of things) may not make any claims to a privileged position, there is no way I can express the absence of this privileged position in that language; to do so I would have to abandon my language and turn to a super- (or meta-) language. But in such a language my particular position would be inexpressible.” (p. 110)
“One might ask why, if the universe is indeed a secret book of the gods with a coded message for us, this message is not written in ordinary language rather than in hieroglyphics whose decoding is discouragingly arduous and, above all, never results in certainty. But this question is futile, for two independent reasons. First, it assumes that we do know, or can imagine, what the universe would be like if its message and meaning were clearly readable and unambiguously displayed before our eyes.
But we do not know this, and we lack the kind of imagination necessary to imagine it. Second, it is possible that if we knew why the message is hidden, or partly hidden, it would no longer be hidden — in other words, that concealment of the reasons for which it is hidden is a necessary part of its being hidden.
There are people who claim to be able to break this perplexing code (albeit only in part, never fully); but they do not necessarily attribute their success to some kind of gnostic initiation or privileged access to an esoteric treasury of knowledge. Rather, they claim to have adopted a special spiritual attitude, opened themselves up to the voice of the meaning-carrying Mind; and they say that anyone can 'tune in' in this way. They might be wrong, of course, and certainly those of us who do not wish to hear this voice cannot be brought round by their arguments; rather, we will classify them as victims of delusions. But if they are right, and the voice really is audible to anyone who wants to hear it, then the question 'Why is the message hidden?' is the wrong question.
And is it not reasonable to suspect that if existence were pointless and the universe void of meaning, we would never have achieved not only the ability to imagine otherwise, but even the ability to entertain this very thought — to wit, that existence is pointless and the universe devoid of meaning?” (p. 128-9)