THE ROLE OF IMAGINATION
George
F. McLean
Method
In turning to the study of the symbol and its role in the development and
appreciation of cultures and identities in the new human experience called
globalization we find ourselves at the juncture of objectivity and subjectivity.
This juncture is both personal and historical. Personally it is a point at which
global interchange forces us to look at ourselves as well as at other persons
and peoples and to do so not merely as so many objects, but as possessed of the
properly human powers of self-determination that constitute unique self
identities. Historically, it is a point at which we become newly aware of how
this self-definition is not only an arbitrary choice, but the response to the
ecological and economic context as well as to the political and informational
influences. Through these have been formed the cultures and civilizations in and
by which we see and interpret, suffer and succeed. Here we would like first to
apply Martin Heidegger’s method for situating the juncture between objectivity
and subjectivity at which we stand and to understand this juncture more deeply
by a study of the imagination as a human capacity foundational to the
understanding the nature of the symbol as situated as well at the meeting of
spirit and matter.
Heidegger points out that at each major crisis in human civilization
people are forced to choose the terms in which they will respond. For ages after
these terms receive attention, while alternate factors are left relatively
unattended. Hence traditions form in philosophy which are echoed in the manner
of interpreting and responding to future crisis; this is what we know, it is in
this that we are experienced; hence it is in such terms that we struggle and
survive.
In the confusion of ancient Athens which killed even its Socrates, Plato
chose to look not inward with the sophists, but outward to separated ideas as
objects above man by which to guide the life of the polis.
Modernity began with a radicalization of this objective reason turning it
into a rationalism. All that was not clear and distinct was put under doubt,
erased in order to achieve Locke’s blank tablet or smashed as a idol according
to Beacon. All became an epistemological object, even the self. Kant heightened
the importance of the categories of the mind. As these needed to be universal
and necessary the uniqueness and hence the freedom of the person were sacrificed
in favor of scientific structures. Man could be autonomous, but only in
obedience to the one and same categorical imperative. It was not long before all
would be systematized by Hegel and turned into totalitarian ideologies that
recognized neither freedom nor identity.
Our present generation now faces challenge of recuperating from this
excess emphasis upon abstract objectivity. According to Hiedegger’s model this
means stepping back to recuperate the subjectivity that was left undeveloped by
Plato. Promising recent avenues to this can be seen in the discovery of
intentionality by such diverse traditions as those of Wittgenstein and Husserl.
But just as objectivity without subjectivity led to a scientific
depersonalization of human kind – to “the mass man” – similarly
subjectivity without objectivity would lead to a solipsistic subjectivism. Where
all is relative to the particular person or people, these are thereby isolated
from one another. This loss of meaning may be the reason why the present state
of philosophy has no other name than the relative terms, “post modern”.
We find ourselves then in a dilemma. We need not less of reason but more
than is offered by the necessitated concepts of science without freedom. We need
the creativity of a mind and initiative of heart which adds to matter the wisdom
of the spirit; yet this human spirit must be immersed in matter and time which
it is able to shape and transform. Neither machine nor spirit, neither beast nor
angel, but properly human, we create and live in terms of symbols that are more
inclusive than concepts and more physical than ideas, yet more exhalted than
sensation. What are these, and what in the human make up enables us to generate
them?
In search of an answer to this problem I would like to turn to Aristotle.
His de anima is constituted of his studies regarding not only the
non-living physical (physis), nor what is not essentially trans physical
(metaphysics), but that range of life from vegetative and sensitive which
depend essentially on matter to the intellectual life not thus dependent. It is
just at this meeting of the material and the non-material in what is simply
neither but rather uniquely human, that we find first Aristotle’s discussion
of the imagination and later, on an enriched metaphysical basis, its role in
personal and cultural identity. It is to these that I would turn in order to lay
some groundwork for the treatment of symbol. This will be extended to a
consideration of the role of the imagination in the first and third critiques of
Kant in order to illustrate further its role in the aesthetic as contrasted to
the scientific order.
THE
I
MAGINATION IN THE GREEK PHILOSOPHY OF FORM
‘
Imagination’ should be traced, of course, to
its Latin equivalent imaginatio, whose root, imago, had meant a
copy or likeness. In
Virgil and
Cicero this was used broadly for a statue,
signet or
spirit, but
Cicero gave it also the more technical and
psychological meaning of “an image of a thing found in the mind, a conception,
a thought, an idea.”[i]
In this the Latin reflects the
Greek term eikon, meaning image or copy.
Hence, etymologically
imagination corresponds to the
Greek, eikasia, coming from eiko,
“to be like.”[ii] The
Greek had also the term phantasia from phaino,
“to appear or to be apparent.” This was derived,
Aristotle notes, from phaos, or light,
which enables one to see.[iii]
Neither phantasia nor eikasia originally referred to anything on
the part of the subject rather than on the part of the object. However, through
Democritus’ clarification of the distinction
between
sensation and its stimulus, there arose a
greater
consciousness of the work of the subject in
imagining. From the time of
Aristotle this was reflected in the technical
use of phantasia, rather than eikasia, in discussions of the
process of
knowledge. Hence, though ‘
imagination’ can be traced etymologically to
the more objective eikasia, its meaning corresponds more properly to phantasia,
as expressing a process of the
soul or psyche.
The
imagination appears throughout the works of P
lato according to the contexts of the various
dialogues. Of the four levels of human
knowledge, the Republic places eikasia
as the lowest level of
knowledge where images are treated. Its
limitations suggest the prison-house in his allegory of the cave. In the Phaedo,
imagi
nation appears in the context of remembering
that which had been known by the nous in a better and higher life.
Images here are taken in the objective sense of that which stimulates the
mind; they can be either intellectual images concerned with
universal meanings or sense images related to
particulars. In the Sophist, Plato would seem to suggest that
God creates not only the concrete objects, but
their images.[iv]
This raises the issue of art: “Shall we not say that we make a house by the
art of building, and by the art of painting make another house, a sort of
man-made dream produced by those who are awake?” And, if so, do we make our
particular dreams by revelation (to which he refers in another context, Timaeus
71E) by
reason or by some mixture of
sensation and
opinion?
In brief, though Plato introduced many elements relating to the
imagination in various contexts, he did not take
up a direct discussion of the
imagination itself; this remained to be
contributed by
Aristotle. He treats the nature of the
imagination in his work on the
Soul (De Anima), and its role in
various aspects of human life in his works: Rhetoric,
Memory and Reminiscence,
and Dreams. His
systematic approach in De Anima locates
this
power in relation to the other human faculties
and provides some controlled insight into its nature and distinctive
capabilities. Here we shall treat first the
soul as the foundation of the
imagination, then its special independent and
creative character, and finally its role in relation to thought, practice and
art.
Substance.
After surveying alternate
opinions in Book I of the De Anima,
Ari
stotle begins in Book II the positive work of
constructing the
science of the
soul by treating it in terms of
First Philosophy. In this light, the
soul is the first act or
substance of a natural body which potentially
has life. By laying down this substantial basis,
Aristotle distinguishes the
soul from things which exist in, or as functions
depend upon, others. He thus provides for the basic autonomy and uniqueness of
persons in themselves and opens the way for an
understanding of that uniqueness in action which
can be called creative.
A first and basic characteristic of the moral subject and, indeed, of any
sub
stance is that it has its
identity in its own right rather than through
another. Only thus could a human being be responsible for one’s action. Without
substances with their distinct identities, one
could envisage only a
structure of ideals and
values inhabited, as it were, by agents without
mea
ning or va
lue. In this light, the task of moral
education would be merely to enable one to judge
correctly, according to progressively higher ideals. This, indeed, would
seem to be the implicit context of
Kohlberg’s focus upon moral dilemmas, which
omits not only the other dimensions of moral development, but this personal
identity as well.
Aristotle points instead to the world of persons
realizing
values in their actions. In their complex
reality of body, affections and mind, they act morally and are the subjects of
moral
education.
Secondly, as the basic building blocks in the constitution of a world,
these individuals are not merely undetermined masses. As the basic points
of reference in discourse and the bases for the intelligibility for the real
world, these individuals must possess some essential determinateness and be of
one or another kind or form. The individual, then, is not simply one unit
indifferently contrasted to all others; he or she is a being of a definite
‑‑ in this case, a human — kind,16
relating in a distinctively human manner to other beings, each with their own
nature or kind. Only thus can one’s interior senses, such as the
imagination, as well as one’s life in the
universe, have meaning and be able to be valued.
Thirdly, being of a definite kind, the individual has its own proper
characteristics and is able to realize a specific or typical set of activities. These
activities derive from, or are “born of” (from the Latin, natus), the
specific nature of the thing. The determination of what activity is moral
and of the role to be played in this by the
imagination will need to include not only the
good to be derived from the action, but respect for the agent and his or her
nature.
Levels of Life. This
work of
First Philosophy, in laying down the general
substantial basis, grounds the autonomy and uniqueness of the person and, hence,
of his or her actions. This is essential, but not sufficient, in order to
understand the human person. The
science of the
soul must proceed to identify the distinctive
nature of this
substance which is the
soul, its various levels and its relation to the
body. For this,
Aristotle employs an inductive approach,
examining the actions of the person and deciphering through them the nature of
the
soul as living at the level of plant, animal or
human life.
This
reasoning follows a number of steps, beginning
where possible from the object attained by a particular type of life activity,
for the level of the object defines the level of the activity. This, in turn,
shows the level of the
power from which the actions come. Finally, the
level of these
powers or faculties manifests the level of the
soul to which they pertain. For example, from
acts of speech one can learn that the agent has the
power or faculty of speech and, in turn, that
his or her
soul is of a rational nature. (Note that it is
not the faculty which acts, but the
subs
tance: it is not, e.g., the intellect that
judges, but the person who judges by his or her intellect.)
On this basis, it is possible to distinguish in a general manner three
levels of objects: e.g., food as the object of the
power of nutrition food, color as an object of
the senses and natures as objects of the intellect, as well as a corresponding
three levels of
soul. We should be able to learn about the
imag
ination by seeing how
Aristotle situates it in relation to these
three.
The
Independent Character of the
Imagination
Within the threefold distinction of levels of life,
Aristotle locates the
imagination on the second or sense level, rather
than in the first or physical level of life. There is a peculiarity to the
imagination, however, which we shall see
constitutes both its strength and its weakness: namely, the
imagination does not have a proper object; by
itself it does not know any external thing. Instead, it works upon the object of
sensation to generate an image: it is “that in
virtue of which an image arises in us.”[v]
Hence, in order to delineate the nature of
imagination,
Aristotle proceeds not by way of its object, but
rather by contrasting it to
intelligence above and
sensation below. He carries out this procedure
deftly, opening thereby a broad field of human
creativity which, in some broad ways,
corresponds to
Sartre’s notion of the hole in being required
for
freedom.[vi]
First, he contrasts the
imagination to the level of
intelligence, which consists of
science,
prudence and
opinion. Having the least firm grasp on truth,
opinion is the lowest dimension of the
intelligence and, hence, is most proximate to
sensation. Thus,
Aristotle’s first step in delineating the
realm of the
imagination is to contrast it to
opinion in two ways.
(1) Whereas
opinion is directed toward truth and, hence,
does not leave us free,
imagination “lies within our own
power whenever we wish (e.g., we can call up a
picture . . . by the use of mental images).”[vii]
Imagination, then, is especially dependent upon
the will and hence is more fully at the disposition of the person.
(2) Our
opinions are what we really incline to hold.
Hence, if we opine something to be threatening, we become frightened, and the
like. In imagining, however, we need not consider ourselves involved, but can
“remain unaffected as persons who are looking at a painting of some dreadful
or encouraging scene.”[viii]
In
imagination, then, though we are on a lower
level of
consc
iousness than
opi
nion, we retain a greater degree of independence
or autonomy than in
opinion, both as regards the object and as
regards our affective reactions.
Having described, as it were, the upper limits of
imagination by contrasting it with
opinion,
Aristotle next proceeds to establish the lower
limits of
imagination by contrasting it to
sensation in three ways.
(1) As with the contrast to
opinion, once again
imagination is marked by a special degree of
autonomy. Whereas
sensations such as sight are always subject to
reality and remain in a potential state until they receive a form,
imagination carries its own
forms within it and, hence, is simultaneously
both in act and in
potency: it is always determined even though not
always fully in act. This independence vis a vis the object appears also in
terms of duration, for whereas
sensation must cease when the object is no
longer present or, e.g., one’s eyes are closed,
imagination can continue to function.
(2) If the task of
kno
wledge is considered in realistic terms,
however, such independence can also appear to render the
imagination less perfect. Whereas
sensation is always true, the
autonomous character of the
imagination means that it is less determined to
the
environment. In this sense, it is frequently or
even “for the most part” false. Thus,
imagination approaches imperfect or unclear
sensations which enable us to say only “it
seems that . . .”
(3) Conversely, however, it is in just such difficulties of
sensation that the
imagination, by testing out and comparing
alternate possibilities and combinations, can aid
sensation to achieve greater su
rety. Performing some of the steps delineated by
Francis B
acon and developed subsequently with endlessly
augmenting sophistication, it repairs and improves imperfect
sensation.
From
Arist
otle’s deft delineation of the
imagination through its contrast to
opinion and
sensation, there emerges a curiously independent
dimension of the person. From the point of view of a realistic
epistemology, this independence can be read as a
weakness, inasmuch as the
imag
ination is not bound to the external object.
However, it uses this weakness to remain not merely in a potential state, but in
one which is always informed and ready — as it were, on low alert. Further, it
can continue to work on things after they are no longer present to the senses.
Finally, without being captivated
emotionally by the situation, it can work
aggressively and with some independence to make up for the limitations of the
senses.
The
Creative Character of the
Imagination
This enables
Aristotle to move to a proper definition of the
imagination and above all to open the road to an
appreciation of its crea
tive character, which already had been
foreshadowed in the special degree of objective and subjective
freedom that distinguished it from
opinion and
sensation. This he does in a number of steps,
each of which points in the direction of the autonomy introduced above.
While remaining on the level of
sensation, each step liberates the
imagination progressively from domination by the
senses. Thereby is established an interiority of nature and of operation which
approximates on the sense level the creative life of the
spirit.
The first step in this liberation follows from what has been said above,
regarding
imagination as a special type of
knowledge. It is not a transitive or objective
act with its own distinct object in a reality beyond itself. Instead, it
concerns the product of
sensation of which
knowledge it is a further elaboration; its
finality is, if anywhere, within itself. The
knowledge in which
imagination consists is a movement resulting
from
sensation:
When one thing has been set in motion another thing may be moved by it,
and
imagination is held to be a movement and to be
impossible without
sensation, it concerns only things experienced
[object] and belongs only to those who have
sensation [subject].[ix]
Since
imagination is dependent upon
sensation, it cannot be the first movement,
which is the
sensation itself, but is a derivative movement:
it is a movement of a movement. Its becoming or development is situated properly
within the order of
knowledge itself with no fixed point outside.
Imaginat
ion then is the very flow of
consciousness, a fluxus within higher or
perfect animals with the
power of
sensation. The flow is composed of relations
between contrary notions derived from the senses. The process of relating them
implies “a subject beyond the contraries capable of bearing them”[x]
and appreciating their relations as such. The life of the
imagination is, then, one of dialectical
movement, and the faculty of
imagination is the
power or capacity had by the
soul to execute this movement.
Secondly, inasmuch as
imagi
nation depends upon
sensation and cannot surpass what has been
received by the senses, properly it is
knowledge on the sense level. Nevertheless, it
differs from the work of the external senses or the other internal senses
(common sense and
memory) in that it works not only to receive or
remember what has been received, but to elaborate and undergo many images, both
true and false. It is this active character (poiesis), rather than
receptive character, which distinguishes the
imagination and provides the basis for its
creative contribution. To understand this further, we need to consider to what
this active
power is applied.
Ari
stotle approaches this in terms of error: what
is it in the senses which makes possible deviation from or progress beyond the
external reality which he considers normative. He notes that error is excluded
when the proper sensible (e.g.,
white) is present but becomes increasingly
possible when
imagination concerns the accidental sensible (this
white) or the common sensible (the movement
of this
white). Here the problem lies not in the work of
the
imagination itself but in the complexity of the
sensible, which is derived from
sensation and initiates the movement of the
imagination.
To see how and in what sense this opens the possibility of multiple relations, including some which are erroneous, one must consider what this movement concerns. Sensation receives from material things form without matter:[xi] sensation concerns the forms of material things.