La vita delle cose
Remo Bodei,
Laterza, Roma-Bari 2009 (pp. 136, € 14,00)
Do things belong to us or is it
really the other way round? If we take
the first assumption we end up on a
course already followed that necessarily
culminates in nihilism, i.e. in a
universe where the world and things
lose all autonomous meaning before
the unilateral and subjugating sway
of technology.
Remo Bodei reminds us of the
life of things (La vita delle cose) in a
small but profound and captivating
book published recently by Laterza.
Once again, Bodei leads us inside
the fabric of reason to broaden its
horizons and make sure it is up to its
universal tasks.
As he goes, Bodei allows himself
to be guided not only by philosophy
but also, of course, by art and
literature. The Search of Lost Time,
for example, helps us to question the
only apparent fixedness of the world,
showing that the stability of things
depends on an original compression
of their complexity and their semantic
reach. Nominating things via language
provides us with a wholly simplified
experience of them, although
this experience does, of course, have
its advantages. It is what allows us
to say that we have a recognisable
world that is structured with discreet
entities such as chairs, beds, etc.
Along this path, however, the world
of objects becomes a totally reified
one in which things have lost the
memory of themselves. Mislaying
their history along the way, they
become available for use by mankind,
opposing no resistance.
In their various applications,
languages sometimes carry the
memory of this dual possibility
concerning the state of things that
populate the so-called objective
world. Bodei reminds us that the
Italian word cosa, meaning "thing",
is to some degree the conceptual
equivalent of the Greek pragma, the Latin res and the German Sache. These words have nothing to do with the
physical object as such, nor even with the current use of the German Ding or
the English thing. If, indeed, pragma and its equivalents indicate that which
involves or affects me, terms such as Ding or thing, which are more or less
equivalents of the Italian word oggetto, instead deal with the world dominated
by technology (and not good
technology), making itself univocally
available to effective action.
How can a "thing" become an
"object"? How does this process of
transubstantiation come about? It
occurs via the emotional or libidinal
– to use Freudian terminology
– investment in the object. This
transition cloaks it with a new significance
that overlaps or replaces
the previous ones. Something similar
sometimes happens with the
photographs of our ancestors which,
with the passing generations, cease
to replace the household gods of
old and become quirky, much-loved
furnishings.
Does this approach to objects,
which corroborates their semantic
sedimentation, their symbolic colouring,
necessarily bring a condemnation
of the commodity world? Or
should we not recognise that this
world too can acquire new meanings
that are not market-based? Is
this not perhaps – I would add – what
some contemporary artists such as
Jeff Koons seem to be showing us,
and pop art before him? Commodities
can also be or become our habitat.
Art, along with philosophy,
gives objects back the meaning that
has been removed from them by their
value for use and exchange. This is
what we are taught by the thinker
Martin Heidegger, who in his article
The Origin of the Work of Art dwelled
on the meanings contained in a
pair of peasant's shoes painted by
Van Gogh. It is along this path that
we are taken by the 17th-century
Dutch still-life paintings, and also
Rembrandt's self-portraits. Indeed,
while the successive stratifications of
the artist's features in Rembrandt's
self-portraits seek to convey the
ravages of time, the 17th-century
still-lifes make us look at the world
of objects sub specie aeternitatis. In
both cases, the objects (or subject),
with their meanings and their tastes
or with their wrinkles and their moles,
emanate the eternal passing via the
contingency.
Bodei suggests that by following
these routes we can renew a loving
relationship with the things that
make up our everyday world, the terrain
of shared meanings, the humble
but essential ethos that accompanies
us from the past to the future.
Federico Vercellone
The life of things
Remo Bodei reminds us of the life of things (La vita delle cose) in a small but profound and captivating book published recently by Laterza. Once again, Bodei leads us inside the fabric of reason to broaden its horizons and make sure it is up to its universal tasks.
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- Federico Vercellone
- 21 October 2009