Costica Bradatan

A Time of Crisis—A Crisis of (the Sense of) Time: The Political Production of Time in Communism and Its Relevance for the Postcommunist Debates

A haunting theme in today’s debates over postcommunism is the necessity of facing the past. Ironically, what those people in East Europe and Russia having to face their past lack most is precisely a proper understanding of what the past is. This is because one of the major losses they suffered under communist regimes was their proper sense of time. In my article, I analyze how in the communist context, time (and people’s sense of it) was produced politically and how the communist political imaginary presupposed as one of its essential ingredients a systematic disruption of (and interference into) people’s sense of time. In the final part, I briefly point to the fact that a successful confrontation with the past can start only with a recovery of these people’s sense of their temporal situation in the world.

`I was a stranger, and ye took me not in': Deus ludens and theology of hospitality in Lars von Trier's Dogville

In this article I propose an interpretation of Lars von Triers Dogville (2003) as a theological and philosophical film. Dogville occasions a series of theological—philosophical reflections on grave topics such as hospitality, homelessness, home, alienation, divine trials and Deus ludens. In my interpretation Dogvilles film narrative is, allegorically, about a homeless divinity that, in the process of searching for shelter and hospitality, is putting humanity to the test. The character Grace is increasingly asserting herself as a cinematic metaphor for an ironic god. As the film narrative unfolds, this becomes increasingly evident, culminating in the final scenes, with their numerous visual and textual allusions to the Judgment Day. I will show that in Dogville both the narrative proper and the films aesthetic vision are philosophically and theologically loaded in a significant way. I will also be discussing Dogville in the light of two biblical texts (Job and Matthew 25), and in relation to Dostoevskys legend of the Grand Inquisitor in The Brothers Karamazov.

To Die Laughing

The article proposes an interdisciplinary introduction to the notion of the political world as farce. More exactly, it advances the argument that, despite experiencing the world as a joke of cosmic proportions, an individual can still create meaning even in the most meaningless conditions (concentration camps, totalitarian societies, etc.). The article traces the presence of the topic in Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and Primo Levi’s Se questo è un uomo and discusses the particular case of Milan Kundera, for whom the historical world appears as nothing but a cruel joke. The treatment of the topic is framed in relation to the theologia ludens tradition, the theatrical elements of Communism, as well as the process of meaning creation in conditions of meaninglessness.

Geography and Fragility

This article introduces the topic and offers an overview of the issue. The author argues that despite the dismantling of the Iron Curtain in 1989 there is still a gap of indifference (which sometimes translates into suspicion and misunderstanding) that separates Western from Eastern Europe when it comes to the exchange of ideas and the dissemination of knowledge. While East European intellectuals most often feed themselves on West European authors, intellectual fashions and cultural products, their Western counterparts pay comparatively little attention to what comes, intellectually, from the East – as though the traffic of ideas between Eastern and Western Europe is only one way. On closer inspection, however, this may be due in part to a sense of existential fragility, insecurity and dislocation that characterizes the “East European mind” itself. The author traces briefly this characteristic in the works and opinions of such authors as Czesław Miłosz, Arthur Koestler, Milan Kundera, Krzysztof Kieslowski and Mircea Eliade.

Introduction: The Paradoxes of Marginality

The main focus of this special issue is on marginality, a multifaceted concept that requires a cross-disciplinary approach. The papers selected here deal with marginality in the formation of the epistemic canon (“the mainstream”) and the production of knowledge in the humanities and social sciences. By employing the vocabulary of marginality (“marginal,” “margins,” “luminal,” “threshold,” as well as dichotomies such as “minor-major,” “center-periphery”), we propose a shift from a discussion of the canon in terms of just one category of “marginals” (a certain race, class, gender etc.) to considering this complex concept in terms of a plurality of players and factors related to marginality broadly defined, some of which have little or nothing to do with power structures and dichotomies. Marginality is thus conceived of as an epistemic category and not as a power status.

Transcendence and History in Krzysztof Kieslowski's Blind Chance

The article examines Krzysztof Kieslowskis Blind Chance (Przypadek, 1981) as a film with a distinct philosophical significance. According to the interpretation proposed, in Blind Chance Kieslowski touches on both universal philosophical topics (death, meaninglessness, quest for certainty and truth, deciphering silence) and “local” themes (East-European historical pessimism, geography as destiny, “terror of history”). In spite of Kieslowskis self-declared religious agnosticism, Blind Chance could be—thanks even to the aesthetics of the film—read as a paradoxical theological statement, not so much about God per se, as about the necessity of his existence. In the same vein, the film occasions a series of meditations on historical fate and the role of geography in history, about hope and hopelessness, existential exhaustion, and legacies of silence.

Philosophy as an Art of Dying

This essay proposes a close look at the tradition of martyr-philosophers in the Western world (Socrates, Hypatia, Giordano Bruno, Edith Stein, Jan Patočka) and advances the claim that the death of these people has a distinct philosophical significance. For various reasons, these philosophers place themselves in limit-situations where they cannot use words anymore to express themselves, but have to turn their own flesh into a radical means of expression. Their dying thus becomes an extension of their work, and the image of their violent deaths comes to be regarded as an inseparable part of their heritage. First, I discuss Socrates as the founder of the tradition of “philosophical deaths” in the West; his gradual “taming” of death in Platos Apology is discussed in some detail. I then introduce a modern case of “Socratic death,” that of Jan Patočka (1907–77). Finally, I map out the cultural and social mechanisms, as well as some of the phenomenological preconditions, presupposed by the notion of “philosophy as an art of dying.”

The World as Farce

This chapter proposes an interdisciplinary introduction to the notion of the political world as farce. More exactly, it advances the argument that, despite experiencing the world as a joke of cosmic proportions, an individual can still create meaning even in the most meaningless conditions (concentration camps, totalitarian societies and the like). The paper traces the presence of the topic in Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and Primo Levi’s Se questo e un uomo and discusses the particular case of Milan Kundera, for whom the historical world appears as nothing but a cruel joke.

“We will die and will be free”: a gnostic reading of 'The Double Life of Véronique'

Abstract: This article has a dual purpose. On the one hand, I propose a Gnostic reading of Krzysztof Kieślowskis The Double Life of Véronique (1991). In this interpretation, the figure of the puppeteer, who is eventually revealed to be the maker of the films story, stands for the Gnostic demiurge. He creates puppet-people only to discard and sacrifice them when he is done performing. On the other hand, I use the film as a springboard for launching a broader philosophical conversation, existentialist in nature, on the notion of world as farce. Participants in this conversation are figures such as Schopenhauer, Dostoevsky and Cioran. Weronikas sacrifice is discussed from these two complementary standpoints.

A Philosopher of the Moving Image

Few film-makers have been more sought after by philosophers or philosophically-minded interpreters than Ingmar Bergman (1918–2007). Ever since The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries were released in 1957, Bergman has been regarded as a major philosopher of the moving image, even though it has not always been clear the exact nature of the philosophy he authored. Depending on who was doing the assessing, Bergman has been ‘existentialist’ (by far the most frequent label), ‘Jungian’, or ‘Kierkegaardian’; he has been associated, among other things, with the ‘death of God’ theology, post-Christian spirituality, Nordic gloom, and ‘typically Scandinavian’ depressiveness. As difficult as trying to pinpoint Bergman intellectually may be, the fact remains that there is something unmistakably ‘philosophical’ about his cinema. He is capable, through many of his films, to arouse in his viewers an intellectual response not very different from the one a philosopher’s book can cause in her readers. If there is such a thing as ‘philosophical sensibility’ Bergman had plenty of it; I would even dare to say, more than many professional philosophers. More important, just like the truly great philosophers, Bergman is at his most insightful when posing questions rather than when giving answers.