On discovering the word “architectonic” (courtesy of Schopenhauer)

Aurelius
Meditations from the End of the World
3 min readJan 11, 2020

I was glancing over Arthur Schopenhauer’s preface to the first edition of The World as Will and Idea when I came across the word architectonic (Vol. 1, p. 4). Not having encountered it before, I did the little three-finger tap on my trackpad to pop open the dictionary definition (a shortcut on Mac which I thoroughly recommend), which read as follows:

adjective

1 relating to architecture or architects.

2 (of an artistic composition) having a clearly defined structure, especially one that is artistically pleasing: the painting’s architectonic harmony.

noun (architectonics) [usually treated as singular]

1 the scientific study of architecture.

2 musical, literary, or artistic structure: his later novels display more concern with architectonics.

For context, Schopenhauer used the term in discussing the nature of philosophical conceptions:

Arthur Schopenhauer

A system of thought must always have an architectonic connection or coherence, that is, a connection in which one part always supports the other, though the latter does not support the former, in which ultimately the foundation supports all the rest without being supported by it, and the apex is supported without supporting.

In short: any complex idea or philosophical system is comprised of subordinate ideas, which build upon each other and interconnect to support each successive proposition, much like the foundations and internal structures of a building (hence the shared etymological root of architectonics and architecture). If two or more components are in conflict with one another, the chain of justifications collapses, and, like a building whose walls give way through age or by force, the apex comes crashing down.

I was immediately reminded of Aristotle, whose Poetics (one of my favourite philosophical works) emphasises structural coherence as one of the primary sources of aesthetic quality (at least as regards tragic theatre). He argues that a great work of art is one whose components (writing, performance, music, costume, and so on) come together in a harmonious structure, which aims at achieving a particular effect on the audience. Hence a tragedy may endeavour to evoke tragic emotions in the audience, where a comedy would hope rather to induce laughter.

Aristotle (in Rafael’s “The School of Athens”)

For instance, a striking musical motif may enhance the dramatic display of emotions during a particularly tragic scene. Conversely, if one were to play a tune more suited to a comedy, there would be discord between acting and orchestra, dampening the emotional impact of the performance.

Of course, the insistence on internal harmony is by no means universal, especially when it comes to the arts. Indeed, some might argue (the postmodernists come to mind here) that internal chaos and contradiction are not only inevitable, but worthy of celebration, providing scope for manifold experiences and interpretations of the text. It could be said that harmonious structure is no innate quality, but one imposed by the spectator as they interpret the work of art, perhaps on account of overlooking certain details that might change their interpretation if brought to their attention.

I will explore these ideas in further depth another time. Until then, just a little addition for your dictionary. Now see whether you can slip it surreptitiously into conversation.

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Aurelius
Meditations from the End of the World

Bringing a philosophical lens to film and literature. Currently writing an MA thesis on historical trauma and the atomic bomb in Japanese animation.