Arthur Schopenhaeur: The Wisdom of Life

". . . if a man finds himself in possession of great mental faculties, such as alone should venture on the solution of the hardest of all problems--those which concern nature as a whole and humanity in its widest range, he will do well to extend his view equally in all directions" (105).  With these words, Schopenhauer declares himself to his audience, urging those worthy of reading his treatise to pursue the universal, rather than the specific.  He would have done well to follow his own advice.

What he chooses to focus on, namely the task of taxonomizing all that a man has at his disposal, that which "makes" a man, so to speak, he treats insightfully and which a certain amount of panache.  I'm especially fond of his takedown of so-called "knightly honour", that system of chivalry which was popular in 19th century Europe which would brook the bearing of no insult among the civilized classes.  The result of this social paradigm, he rightly notes, "The rudest is always right . . . However stupid, bad or wicked a man may have been, if he is only rude into the bargain, he condones and legitimizes all his faults" (75).  Such a state of social affairs cannot be said to have any merit, as he goes on to illustrate, and is akin to trying "to prove he warmth of your room by holding your hand on the thermometer and so make it rise" (80).

The vigor with which he eviscerates the social mores of his time, however, gives evidence that he has not achieved his aim to treat "humanity in its widest range."  His attention is myopically limited to a specific period of time, and furthermore to those levels of society which are concerned with honour in the sense that he means.  The modern reader has no need of being convinced that a duel to satisfy some perceived insult is barbaric and pointless.  Schopenhauer unknowingly preached to the choir of posterity.  He did it with wit and vigour, but as he observes, "the strongest arm is unavailing to give impetus to a featherweight" (96).

Which is merely one example of the larger problem with this work.  When he chose as his topic that which makes a man, he did so literally and in earnest.  It does not occur to him, for example, that women are part of the fabric of humanity as well.  He does this largely by omission, but when he does address the fact that perhaps women also exist, he does so in a tone so dismissive as to make this reader seethe.  "The most essential feature in woman's life is her relation to man," seems to summarize his opinion of the matter, and he says little more than that (67).  Neither is he content to limit himself to humans with a penis, living in 19th century Europe, and possessed of some level of social status.  He for all intents restricts himself to a test group of one: himself.  For example, if I were to list that which a man has at his disposal, friends and family would be high on the list.  Having never experienced these pleasures, Schopenhauer makes the unforgivable assumption that all men are like himself, and comes to the conclusion that "what one human being can be to another is not a very great deal" (30).

I am often tempted by this line of reasoning myself.  Having never really experienced romantic love, it would be easy for me to assume that it did not exist.  But I have seen it.  I have seen the miracle of two good people working together for some even greater good, and even my ardent cynicism cannot deny that there are happy, loving, admirable couples in my acquaintance.  Schopenhauer assumed that his human experience was the only one, and there but for the grace of whatever go I.