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In September, I arrived in Paris to begin a four-month tenure
as a Senior Fulbright researcher/lecturer in Philosophy. My project
was fairly expansive, embracing as it did a collaborative effort
in writing with another senior philosopher, Pascal Engel, in the
Department of Philosophy at the Sorbonne. We have worked on a
paper entitled Recent Work on Truth and have given some
occasional lectures to the Philosophy Department at the Sorbonne.
My time has otherwise been spent working at the nice desk provided
for me in a building near Le Musée de l'Armée by
the wonderful philosophers at the Jean Nicod Institute, which
is a part of the National Research Center. I have spent several
hours in stimulating conversation with several philosophers, allowing
me to not only map out the first draft of our collaborative project
on truth, but also to write a paper on contemporary skepticism
to give as a lecture in the Sorbonne philosophy department on
Nov. 22. The title of the paper was L'argument de l'ignorance
and will hopefully see its way into print in a French philosophy
journal.
Otherwise, I see the collaborative project on truth possibly
extending to a completion date in the spring and after that finding
its way into publication when the gods see fit. My collaborator
and I, after five or six fruitful discussions, have already agreed
on the basic structure of the essay and how things will develop.
That was the most important thing to be done this semester. With
a little luck, we will have mapped out the first draft by my departure
on Jan 1, 2005.
Each day, I go to my office early and try to finish up in time
to work out in the fitness center at rue Pontoise where I do my
best to explain to the other gentlemen there in the middle of
push-ups and bench presses, etc. why I find it something of an
exaggeration to think Mr. George W. Bush is a veritable throwback
to Attila the Hun or Alaric the Visigoth. This, of course, has
been a wonderful cultural experience endearing me immensely in
the neighborhood and has further enabled me to function effectively
as a source of consolation for the chronically and acutely depressed
after the last election in the U.S. At any rate, I walk everywhere,
talk to as many people in French as I can, and on the way home
after the fitness center I stroll along the Seine. On some nights,
the walk home has been transporting in a way I would never have
expected. On all my previous trips to Paris, I never had the sense
that I belonged, and felt that Paris was simply another big suffocating
city. I went to work and went home to bed. This time it was different.
I began to feel the sensual texture of the city, the vitality
and smooth tranquility of things, the relaxed atmosphere by the
river and jogging in the Jardin Luxemberg. Having a hot chocolate
in a shop just off blvd. St. Michel turns out to be a spiritual
experience. I love walking the city streets now and talking with
as many people as I can on whatever seems engaging. I am reading
everything I can about things French, going to concerts at the
Eglise Saint Ephrem, and found my favorite museum at Musée
Mammonet Monet. Just finished reading Abelard's autobiography
Histoire de mes Malheurs. Made me wish I had been
around here in those days.
Above all else, I find that when walking around the city, or
listening to a concert at Eglise St. Ephrem's, I seem to think
better because I am in a happy and relaxed conditioned here. The
work goes well and although I have not had a chance to do any
traveling just yet, and am only a few weeks away from returning
to a demanding schedule elsewhere, there is no doubt in my mind
that my time here has been a blessing philosophically and otherwise
for which I am very grateful, and I look forward to a return visit.
If you go to rue Rollins just off place de la Contrescarpe, you
will see on the wall of one of the apartment houses a gold plaque
indicating that the house in question was where Rene Descartes,
the famous French philosopher, lived and worked during three of
his extended stays in France. Otherwise, he lived in Holland.
There is on the plaque a quote from Descartes to the effect that
he considered his condition, that of being able to live with one
foot in each country a mark of his happiness in which he found
freedom. He said in a letter (1648) to Princess Elisabeth of Bohemia:
Me tenant, comme je suis, un pied dans un pays et l'autre en
un autre,
je trouve ma condition très heureuse, en ce quelle est
libre."
I could not quite understand just what he was getting at when
I first saw and read that plaque over six years ago. I do now.
Paris toujours!
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