An Impressionistic Excursus concerning the difficulty of the Individual and/or as Work of Talent
The difficulty of our last step in the path, of our last stepping forth, in the previous post, concerning the confusion over individuality has a direct answer in Hegel which brings clarity to the confusion:
“At the outset, then, the nature of individuality in its original determinate form, its immediate essence, is not yet affirmed as active; and in this shape is called special capacity, talent, character, and so on. This peculiar colouring of mind must be looked at as the only content of its purpose, and as the sole and only reality. If we thought of consciousness as going beyond that, as seeking to bring into reality another content, then we should think of it as a nothing working towards nothing.”
The whole of 401, especially when it comes to the sense of Talent, of Hegel’s chief work, is worth bringing to our attention, let whoever wants to pursue it read it. “Nothing working towards Nothing." This is said in order to say that one who has not come to wisdom or happiness, said in the Socratic way, remembering it, or, in the other case, not having remembered, is in a relation to this ratio, wisdom or happy consciousness. Nothing working towards Nothing is set aside as ridiculous and empty, or out of hand as what is not already confirmed by the thinking of the Absolute, since all are in relation to the Real or actually, Thought rightly/happily, that Real. But if nothing is working towards nothing we must think already of the descent into a well with no bottom, as in the Nietzschean abyss which is aimless. However, said from the Hegelian ground, it is the unhappy consciousness which is aimless to the extent that it aims at the irrational aims, and not at the rational aim. But, such an aimlessness, is only relative, and no devaluation of the highest values occurred, in such a way as to make the devaluation itself the value as the solidity that tosses on the pan-oceanic wave which has already annihilated: thus in the baseness of imponderable confusion which one can hardly enter into. Unless this is the “monster” that one who “stares too long” is. Whoever, in the text of Heidegger, the arbeit, the work, the energia, is uncertain, is questioning along the Grund and even in the essence of the abyss. This means a particular modification of the Thinking of creativity is at work. To the place of the work goes this Nothing, and the place is Nothing. So self-love exists, no self forgetfulness, no bringing towards the happiness in self love can occur, for everything refers not to a circle that makes the being, but to a Nothing. But in the Absolute, science, the self-love still speaks! All absolutes are thus cast aside.
In Hegel the place of the work is the Real. This notion is still active in Science, where science remains metaphysical. For example Chomsky’s distinction of the mystery and the problem. Here he lets the mystery be in the Real, i.e., in what lies beyond the capacity of the human equipment, the human brain. A wide region of the Real actually exists, but it is not reachable. Something like this is thought in Dennett as well. Consciousness is a kind of super-duper unhappy consciousness. It is both lame in its human structure, and it is causal. In Hegel, the consciousness that is unhappy is misdirected, has the wrong aim, but it is moral and it is moving towards its Real. Once there is Creativity there is no Real. The mystery is not relative to the searcher.
The more science as the essence of technology purposes the now commonplace, but constantly growing in power, openness of a Positivism that comes to an apotheosis, in the saying that what it is doing is not to be understood in any way, for example in the commonplace talk of the advance of physics, it moves into the power of the essence of technology where it begins to fuse with the captivation of all thoughtless beings. In Comte, positivism, was the thing observed, but managed by the common sense, which still had the status of a actual intelligence, and not what it becomes, the passing dogma of the arbitrary township, at this or that moment. Thus, it becomes a brilliant absolute, that binds with its heat. As though everything were essence, and nothing left over as the Nothing. Without the Nothing, with its apportionment of openness, the annihilation of the wave of human beings in the shoar of movements brings delusion and dream into being as a rule. The more the seduction to the Lotus Eaters, which guides all souls, brings greater and greater ease and joy to human beings, the more the concealment of Being has happened.
“Talent is not other then individuality with a definite original constitution looked at as the subjective internal means, or transition of purpose into actuality.”
Because the “talent” is not some entity crawling around inside the body, but actually the sphere of the horizon of the being of the one who has the talent as their world, the aim of the talented one is the same as the world. Understood in the Hegelian manner the whole individual is a movement of error in the unhappiness that has not brought the happy world to the horizon of their existence. Existence is thus fallen short of the Real, but in so far as it is talent, to that extent, it has at least done so in a glittering way, and in a way to shine brilliantly, as with van Gogh. Obviously van Gogh, however much one is enamored by his work, was not a pious and grave man, was not a man who saw the true way for the political community as the shape of life of the people, but, rather, something glittered and came forth, and it sits there on the outskirts in the houses of art and in innumerable glittering reproductions. It is almost a contagion of the world, this reminds us of the Greek Temple, in the work that goes under the Rubric: Heidegger, the philosopher.
Still, the confusion of the Jungian Archetype comes in. A "type" is not a symbolic presentation, but is said literally. Where exactly do these personality types come in? They are not the preserve of some few gifted ones, but of each one. Each one has a personality. This of course is in great contrast to the thinking of Goethe, for whom personality still meant the same thing as gift, as Talent. And was not bestowed on each one. Yet, Jung understands this, and Thinks it, perfectly adequately to the older notions. It is simply that he tries to show, through observations, available to him, not only to him, but more to him than others without his personality, that each one has these traits in lesser or greater prominence, in more or less conspicuous expression. IT IS THIS: What Jung noticed, that no one ever had brought out, but some had know of, is that the inner life is as contoured/pan-folded as the Gift of the talented in its specific inverse of the Talent. The more hollow, and free of personality in the old sense, the more cavernous and full of recesses is the inner life in its rich enjoyment of the world of the Thou. For instance, Borges, when he says Shakespeare's talent was unconscious, or that he made his work as though unconsciously, he says, this one has no cavernous inner space of contrivance, everything moves along the absolute of the talent, in its contact with the Nothing. The more Jung was able to understand the peculiarity of “inner banality”, of the mundane and ungifted, the more he saw in madness a wave crashing in the cavernous recesses. This strange un-German, as it were, praise of being qua being as the ungifted, as the uncultured, not as Volk, but as Individual. That the Volk would be Individuals (cowards as this reads in Dugin), is what seems slightly strange. But all this is unclear. One should not let it appear that in Heidegger there is not reverence for the all those who appear to have brought forth no work, or to have made no exploit shine in the eyes of das Man. Yet there's something deeper in it. Because Heidegger, what is rejected in the work called Heidegger, is the split in the worlds which leads to the chaos of the schizophrenic, so-called, world of Jung and his coloured Nothing. All this remains thought without a good grasp of specific tonalities. So far we are simply vomiting certain obscure apprehensions and formal scatterings. Leaving this matter aside, we are now ready to go on with the Methodos under the renewed impetus of the Power of its questioning.