One of these days, I'm going to actually finally write the book I've been talking about for the past... 10 years. The more I read and the more I learn, though, the more elusive this book becomes, and yet the more of a holistic understanding I can bring to it.
In the final presentation I had to do in order to earn my Masters degree at Loyola Marymount (in front of three different professors, two of which I thought for sure would be completely against my ideas -- lucky me...), I presented the ideas I'd been working on in almost every paper I wrote in my two years in the program. What I came to realize is that I'm personally very interested in the way philosophy (particularly aspects of metaphysics and epistemology) plays a role in the way we approach a text; e.g. the way the experience of the author and the reader shape the meaning of the text, and how the text becomes the mode of conversation through which the author and reader share in a dialogical experience (even if the author is dead, ha). In all of my papers, I came to the conclusion, essentially, that literature (and philosophical questions) are the best kinds of things to study because of the way in which our personal experiences (of both the author and reader, equally) shape the way we approach interpretation (this is also true of art, and perception -- but I'll save that for later). Interpretation then becomes like a number line between 0 and 1; it is clear that 2 is out of the realm of possible true interpretations, but there is still an infinite number of interpretations in between (e.g. .1, .001, .0009, and on and on...)
I love that people are such complex animals, and bring incredibly unique perspectives to everything they do -- no two people are exactly alike -- in the genetic scientific sense, in the nature/nurture sense, in the vast differences of personal experiences, events, values, etc. We each bring a completely unique set of interpretive views to everything we do, think, read, see. This is why conversation and dialogue continue, why learning is something that never ceases. We never ever get a full and complete picture of reality, because we only experience it from one view.
This sounds so futile and discouraging. However, (and maybe this is why I've become a teacher, particularly of literature and philosophy) my favorite thing about it all is it need not be futile nor discouraging. If we become set in our own views, mired in or single-minded egocentrism, then obviously there is nothing to learn and no shared experiences to be had -- and ultimately, no true conversation or dialogue either. THAT to me is discouraging and futile. What literature and philosophy allows us to do is, in a second-hand way, experience the views, values, ideas, and perspectives of others both similar to us and vastly different. THIS is how we learn to be full and complete humans. THIS is how we expand the horizons of our knowledge -- and the best part is it can never be fully achieved; there will always be new people, new literature to read, new experiences to experience (first- AND second-hand) and so long as we're never satisfied with what we have and what we know, the journey need not ever end. It's exhilarating to me, and keeps me wanting to continue to read, talk, and share with others with a constantly-renewed sense of optimism.
I told my professors during my final presentation that I'm not at all bothered by contradiction -- this fact about myself alarms many in the area of philosophy, because it can relegate itself into the rabbit-hole of Relativism, and quickly into Nihilism -- neither of which I believe I fit. Instead, I see contradiction as an inherent part of being humans of different experiences and insights, products often of our local environments and social structures, but all sharing in some aspect of the single overarching and holistic truth. I call this my 'template theory' -- that each lens through which people view the world (be it religion, scientism, etc.) lays over the reality of the world and reveals some of its truths, but imperfectly. The more templates through which we approach the world -- i.e. the more perspectives we attempt to learn, assume (think of Atticus Finch's whole "get in other people's shoes" mantra) -- the more of a true, and whole, picture we get of the real world. It's never perfect, never complete, but the closer we get, the more I feel we fulfill our purpose as thinking beings (ah, good ol' Aristotle, look at me fulfilling his idea of happiness and worth by aiming to actualize the purpose of my "soul").
These theories of course are massively imperfect, and have major argumentative and logical flaws. This will obviously be something I'll have to deal with whenever (and WHEN, not IF damn it I'm going to make it happen someday soon!) I write this book of mine.
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