ENSAIO MODELO - Nº02
Topic 1 (2016)
“Spoken sounds are symbols of affections in the soul, and written marks symbols of spoken sounds. And just as written marks are not the same for all men, neither are spoken sounds. But what these are in the first place signs of – affections of the soul – are the same for all; and what these affections are likenesses of – actual things – are also the same.”
Aristotle, De Interpretatione, 16 a2
Around the world, regardless of culture, language or our diverse perspectives, we experience the same reality. Sounds and writing are, in themselves, arbitrary; they represent and form part of the meaning of our experiences. However, despite its endless variations of expression, what everyone feels each day is the same for all humanity.
First, we must clarify what Aristotle means in this quote. He explains that sounds are symbols of the 'affections of the soul' and that writing is a symbol of these sounds. But the first things that these symbols are images of are affections in the soul. While a symbol represents a concept through a sign, signs directly mean or point to the concept. Many critics agree that the 'affections of the soul' are thoughts which, therefore, are similarities of reality. One only has to look at science to check this out. Reality is processed by our brain to form thoughts, so Aristotle has a valid and solid argument. We can all appreciate that sounds are symbols of our thoughts, which in turn are representations of reality, and which vary based on our language, culture and perspective. Especially with regard to words, while the name of each thing corresponds to its meaning, in themselves they are arbitrary. Juliet, Shakespeare's fictional creation, encapsulates this notion perfectly. If we disassociate the word 'rose' from its meaning, it is very clear that 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet'; names do not matter. The rose is the same, whether it is so termed or not; our reality is not the phenomenon that changes, but the way we perceive it is. While the word we give to this flower not only comes to represent its meaning, but also to participate in it, this symbol could have been named using any other sound, which would also have become part of its meaning. This shows that Aristotle is correct when he says that things are the same, even though sounds and writing are not the same for everyone.
Likewise, the most primordial sounds (as Yesterday says, 'exclamations of emotion'), such as a laugh or a cry of pain, are also symbols of our sensation of pain. In this case, more specifically, these sounds become 'tautegorical'; they express what we feel, rather than just representing it. In other words, the symbol participates in that to which it points and thus ‘resists translation’. When we say 'poof!' or 'hurrah', we are expressing our feelings of disgust or happiness, respectively. From these more primitive examples, we can clearly see the truth of Aristotle’s explanation of symbols; these sounds have no meaning in themselves, but are irrevocably linked with the feelings they express. It is important to note that some arguments try to maintain that, due to linguistic differences between cultures and lack of words in some languages, our experiences are completely different. Especially when it comes to languages like Japanese, which did not have a word for 'green' until after World War II, or Dani, a Papua New Guinea language that only has two words ('dark' and 'light') to describe colours, people try to justify the difference in our experiences; speakers of these languages cannot easily distinguish between different colours and have completely different perceptions of English speakers. This has led some to maintain that we do not experience colour the same way. However, this argument is not valid; it concludes that there are no common experiences just because we do not share the same perceptions. If we turn these propositions into a general argument, we can see this fallacy.
P1: Different cultures have different perceptions of their experiences.
C1: Therefore, there are no common experiences.
One cannot conclude with a generalization about experiences when the first proposition speaks of our perceptions of experiences; this is an invalid leap. Therefore, Aristotle's argument stands firm in the face of this analogy. In addition, some people try to use a different argument from colour to defend the relativity of experiences. With the latest scientific advances, it has been discovered that colour is a completely subjective phenomenon; instead of extrinsically existing from our consciousnesses, it is converted by our minds from a series of electromagnetic waves. That's why we can't be sure that my perception of 'red' doesn't look like your conception of 'green', or a completely different colour. Besides, we could not explain our conception of 'red' to anyone else. If someone lives in a room composed of black and white for the rest of their life and, through black and white books, learns about all factual aspects of colour, when he goes out into the world and sees colour, he will still discover new information about colour, even though he had access to all the relevant physical information beforehand. Another similar example is pain; how can we explain the sensation of pain to someone who has never felt it, and will never feel it? Philosophers call these ineffable sensations 'qualia' and can attribute this 'explanatory gap' (our inability to explain 'qualia') to the fact that we do not have the same experiences. However, as in the example above, our underlying experience of colour is the same for all, although we perceive it in completely different ways. In terms of sounds as symbols, you may not be able to explain 'qualia' to others. However, without associating the word 'red' with colour itself, this word has no meaning, despite extensive education about our perception of colour.
Another facet which this quotation calls into mind is that of translation. In itself, this field holds many quandaries; is it possible to render ideas which are essentially culturally unique in other idioms? In the Bible, Jesus says, “Behold I stand at the door and knock” – when translated into tribal cultures which have no doors, this is rendered: “Behold I stand outside the hut and shout”. This translation, no matter how apparently trivial the differences may seem, in no way correlates to the original meaning. As I have discovered even from the very writing of this essay, translation is in no way a linear art. Even the Shakespeare cited above finds its own different nuances in other languages, in terms of linguistic rendition of the original language. Perhaps another, more potent example of the difficulties of translation lies within emotion words which cannot be translated. The Portuguese ‘saudades’, the Japanese ‘wabi sabi’, amongst many others, demonstrate that cultural values are so ingrained that it is nigh impossible for foreigners to understand these concepts. Perhaps, then, the knotty implications of translation demonstrate that the ‘affections of the soul’ are not, in reality, the same. However, even if foreigners do, indeed, struggle to understand concepts so intrinsic and complex, the fact that it is possible to comprehend and recognise these emotions in our lives does seem to suggest the opposite. An avid learner of Portuguese might never have heard of ‘saudades’ before, but after hearing the definition and continuing their life with knowledge of this experience, eventually they can understand the meaning. Furthermore, many of these emotional words are deeply relatable, but are aspects of life to which we had not attributed names before. Therefore, Aristotle's explanation still retains its value in explaining our attempts to classify our experiences.
However, an important factor to consider is the apparent objectivity of the soul which Aristotle maintains. Is it valid to say that all souls feel similarly? Ethically, the cultural relativism argument would suggest that we do not, since cultural values appear to deviate drastically from each other in different areas. Nonetheless, Rachels’ criticism of the premises of this type of argument has already been outlined above, albeit with regards to perceptions of experiences, and not ethics; the dissimilarity of ethical ideas does not necessitate the lack of an objective standard. Lewis’ argument from ‘quarrelling’ also rather suggests that we all do have the same ethical impulses; the fact that people argue with each other over who has the right to a bus seat, or that we use claims such as ‘I gave you some of my orange, so you give me some of yours’, suggests that we are all inadvertently appealing to an objective, moral standard. However, members of society who are psychopaths often lack this sense of moral compass which would constitute an objective similarity in souls, committing morally outrageous acts impulsively – at least, by the estimation of those who have a mutual moral code – without the least remorse. Often these criminals do, in fact, realise that they are committing a crime, however. Even if their impulses guide them to murder someone, psychopaths are completely aware of the moral reprehensibility of their actions; they just choose to follow their impulses over this moral code. Perhaps, then, on an ethical level, Aristotle’s definition of a universally agreeing soul, has been saved.
Nevertheless, it is still worth considering the aesthetic aspect of the soul, which is one of the most difficult to resolve into clear definitions. Do all of us experience Leonardo Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa the same way? Have we all read Lewis Carroll’s ‘Alice in Wonderland’ with the same reactions and the same thoughts? These questions do, perhaps, lead more logically to the answer in the negative, even though there is no empirical way of verifying these facts – which, perhaps, logical positivists such as AJ Ayer would object to. The sheer disparity of opinion regarding the pertinence or appreciation of art does seem to suggest the latter option; that we do not feel the aesthetic significance of any object in the same way. However, I would not like to fall into the same fallacy as cultural relativists have; the diversity of opinion does not mean that our souls do not have the same experiences, just that we have different interpretations of the art. Perhaps, on this front, I agree more with Kant in terms of aesthetics; the underlying standard of beauty is the same, it is only our taste which varies, based on our upbringing, exposure to art and inclination. We can all agree that the Mona Lisa is a beautiful painting, whether we personally like it or not. With classical pieces of art, this is easier to see. However, with more modern, abstract pieces, there is such controversy that this line called ‘art’ is so much harder to distinguish. Duchamp’s ‘Fountain’ is, perhaps, the epitome of this controversy; consisting of a porcelain urinal, this supposed ‘work of art’ was displayed in 1917, and has sparked the continued ire of various critics, as well as fuelled the debate on aesthetics. Perhaps some would call this display beautiful; however, there are many who would disagree. With art, then, the border between mere opinions and reality are blurred, in terms of the soul.
To conclude, while there are differences in our perceptions of the experiences we undergo, in addition to linguistic nuances that symbolize these concepts, we conceive our perception of the world in the same way and experience the same things. Perhaps this notion becomes rather troubling, in terms of the sameness of our souls; if everyone has the same soul, we could be reduced to mere carbon copies, unoriginal, impersonal, futile. However, I think that Aristotle merely had in mind the objectivity of reality in itself, when he conceived of this quote. Even the most devout sceptics would have trouble denying the objectivity of our surroundings; to do so would be to concede that we are sparks of nothing, floating in an even greater nothing. Therefore, Aristotle is right when he states that reality - and our experiences - is the same for all people, in spite of diverse symbols; it is not reality which changes, but the way in which we understand it as humans.
SINTETIZANDO -
Autor da citação: Aristóteles (384 a.C.-322 a.C.)
Obra da citação: Organon: Da Interpretação
Posição em relação ao autor: concordância
Tese do ensaio: Demonstrar, com base no pensamento aristotélico, a objetividade da realidade independente da notória subjetividade da percepção humana.
Autores usados em suporte: James Rachels (1941-2003) , C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) .
Bons estudos!
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