|
The
postmodern orthodoxy insists that meaning
and truth are relative, the predicate of individual perceptions as
unique and
variegated as our individual selves. The idea follows from Kant’s
assertion
that the actual object – das Ding an
sich – can never be known, that what we know is
an assortment of
impressions, occasioned by sensory interplay between subject and
object within the context of an arbitrary interpretive matrix. The
locus of meaning being diffuse – one cannot say, here
it is,
or there
– the world is said to be without
intrinsic logos or mythos, without an ultimate word or universal
narrative. The result is a
relativistic construction of language, wherein values and
meaning
are deemed to be secondary phenomena, culturally imposed upon an
inherently
meaningless cosmic process.
For many, no doubt, this would comprise a sophisticated, perhaps self-evident and necessary perspective. The late fruit of Enlightenment philosophy, it is the modernist ethos in a nutshell, with implications for the philosophy of science, for information theory and the psychology of human communication. And it is likely the working hypothesis of the preponderance of intellectuals currently active. What is evidently overlooked within the ambit of this doctrine is something called nature. To quote Whitehead: ‘The concrete world has slipped through the meshes of the scientific net.’ Nature, we observe, has constants – not only in the fine tuning of its exotic numbers, but in form and function on every level of organisation. Nature is not random or chaotic, but discreet and highly specific in its typological categories. In the speciation of its flora and fauna, for instance, we do not observe anything like Darwinian mutability, excepting adaptational variations within quite narrow limits. What we do observe is optimised integrity – of function as of morphology. It is the persistence of natural types which sustains and validates the perennial philosophy, the conservative philosophy in the proper sense, and gives rise to the concept of the Ursprache, the primordial and inherent language of nature – a true and virtuous language in its efficacy to impart meaning. Nature, we further observe, is not merely a collection of parts. Rather it presents us with integrated organic wholes – wholes which commend themselves to intuitive apprehension, and not only in relation to human sensibilities but throughout the sentient kingdom. Determination thus is readily made concerning an object – as to whether it is eatable, an object to mate with or one to provide shelter. Extrapolating from this crude example, we find that it is valid to speak of experiential categories. The quasi infinite complexity of nature is intersected in this sense by a profound simplicity, allowing for the appreciation of organic wholes, up to and including the entire universe. Value, moreover, is intrinsic as per the stated example. In its ordered specificity, therefore, nature is informed of a moral and aesthetic canon which is no mere imposition of culture, but inexorable and intrinsic as the Golden Mean. Humanity, as the ultimate instantiation of the natural order, has a unique capacity to interface with that order – with its manifestations as with its secrets. As elsewhere I observed, human sensibility is the cosmic interface, an idea echoed in metaphysical conceptions of man as microcosm, as temple of the mysteries and universal logos created in the image of God. Thus it is mere Cartesian piety to project an objective reality beyond human apprehension. On the available empirical evidence it is mind which renders the essence. It is the mind which relates authentic gnosis, the true knowledge of phenomena, and which provides insight, intuition, revelation, empathy, epiphany and intimate rapport with other minds. And it is precisely because of this capacity for the apprehension of natural categories, that human communication, the intimacy of shared meaning, is actual and not merely imagined. Meaning in literature and the arts, indeed all that is valid in human culture, has its ultimate grounding in the universality of an objective moral and aesthetic canon. It is by virtue of this universal canon that, say, an air by Bach is appreciated by modern Japanese and the ancient Japanese art of haiku by modern Europeans. And whereas it is said that now we see as through a glass, darkly, the human potential for ultimate understanding is acknowledged in that the apostle continues, but then face to face – now I know in part, but then shall I know even as I am known. To know as I am known – I am reminded here of an atheist of some renown, fulminating that the notion of an omniscient mind – one that knows us in intimate detail – is inherently obscene. One could understand, perhaps, if the man harboured issues regarding a violation of privacy, but are we to understand that he would prefer the trillions of cellular functions, that moment by moment sustain his physical body, to be regulated by his conscious personal ego? Somehow I think not. I am sure that, given a choice, he would gladly defer to that stupendous intelligence implicit in the natural world. What, however, this aside conveniently brings into focus is the question regarding the nature of omniscience. How do we conceive of an omniscient mind, conventionally regarded the exclusive province of God, yet claimed for humanity by visionaries such as Paul and Lao Tse? How do we envisage the contents of such a mind? Do we envisage infinite analysis, the simultaneous apprehension of each point-event throughout the universe, at every moment in time and from every conceivable angle, with their myriad interactions up to and including an ultimate synthesis? Such indeed would be omniscience after the rational or reductive mode of modern science. Yet somehow we feel that this is not what the venerable sage envisaged, in stating that, ‘without stirring abroad, one can know the whole world’. It is not, I would venture, how we envisage the mind of God. It is rather a glimpse into the abyss which we are afforded, a glimpse into the mind of Satan – the cosmic serpent and archangel of light – and thus a glimpse of Babel, the epitome of abstracted dissociation. As to the great image of Lao Tse and the logos of Paul – these, I would suggest, are rather intuitive in nature, being informed of a simplicity that perceives in wholes rather than in parts. Striking examples of this simplicity are found in the contemplative aesthetic of the East – notably in the haiku of which mention was made. Here – in the traditional three lines of seventeen syllables which convey a universe of sensibility – profound simplicity is not merely invoked; it is celebrated. Nor is this particular instance isolated, but a universal tradition is exemplified which espouses a mode of cognitive engagement besides the reductive. This mode is intuitive and holistic in nature. It is also embodied and grounded therefore in the actual, perceiving the universal in what is nigh, the esoteric or occult in what is apparent. Of old, furthermore, the mind thus disposed avails itself of a special language, such as I designate the intrinsic, the primordial or natural language. It is the potent language of the ‘masters’ – of beings who, having crossed the abyss of ratiocination, speak to effect. Theirs is the universal canon and the language of truth, and theirs is the substance. The whole world, wrote Lao Tse, recognises the true as the true, yet is this only the false. Or, as the popular saying has it, the devil also can quote scripture – and, we might add, with alacrity. Yet, as we have argued, a true language exists and thus a true and meanigful record. These controvert the claims of modernism – that the universe is gibberish and any apparent meaning fortuitous, the improbable result of random processes over cosmic swathes of space and time. The language of which it is spoken bears record to the contrary – that it is the product of intelligence. It is emphatic in asserting that the universe is an opus and therefore intentional, with meaning at the very heart of that intent. Information, meaning, communion and verity are the concentrated embodiment of that intentionality. The world, like the word, is comprised of meaning. |