Metaphorical Musings: Navigating the Linguistic Labyrinth
Part III: Severing Ariadne’s Thread
As we step beyond the threshold and into the second genealogy, we feel Ariadne’s thread pull taut, knowing full well that once relinquished, there is no turning back.
Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Judgement, often regarded as the dawn of modern aesthetic criticism, provides a valuable foundation for re-examining the philosophy of metaphor. Kant’s division of the mind in the three critiques assigns a central role to the imagination, which bridges sensory experiences and abstract concepts, thus making the former intelligible. According to Kant, the imagination serves as the ‘productive faculty of cognition’ (Critique of Judgement Pt. I, Bk. II, §49), capable of shaping a ‘second nature’ from the raw material of the natural world (I.II.49). This ‘second nature’ is a representation constructed by the imagination, surpassing any singular thought or concept, thereby eluding full capture by language (I.II.49).
Beyond the threshold, Kant stands in opposition to Hobbes and Locke, who viewed philosophy’s aim as aligning language with the realm of concepts or ideas. His notion of the intelligible realm is more nuanced, resisting the strict rules imposed by Hobbes and Locke. Kant introduces the concept of ‘aesthetic ideas’ as counterparts to ‘rational ideas’, the latter being definite and intelligible. Unlike Hobbes and Locke, Kant acknowledges that not all of the mind’s representations, particularly those of aesthetic ideas, can be neatly defined once and for all.
Rational ideas, such as those found in logic and mathematics, occupy one domain, while aesthetic ideas reside in another. Kant emphasises that imaginative or aesthetic ideas are of a different nature altogether. In Kant’s view, the artist, guided by genius, plays a crucial role in embodying the ideas of invisible beings, which Locke dismissed as ‘strange and absurd doctrines’ expressed through vague language (Human Understanding III.X.9). For Kant, grasping beauty and other aesthetic qualities is an intuitive experience beyond the confines of logic or definition, as ‘no concept can fully capture [aesthetic ideas] as internal intuitions’ (I.II.49).
Moreover, Kant highlights the poet’s ability to transgress the bounds of sensory experience, striving to present aesthetic ideas to the senses with a completeness beyond what nature offers. This expansion of cognition through the poet’s artistry contrasts sharply with narrow views of metaphor. While Aristotle hinted at expanding the natural or proper with the unnatural or improper, Kant’s work marks the beginning of a second genealogy, where rational thought is assigned its place but other avenues, including the imagination, are opened. The introduction of the imagination into the mental schema displaces the cognitive as the sole mental behaviour worth consideration.
Kant’s imagination-expanding ideas cast shadows that resemble Aristotle’s subtle assertion that metaphors can enrich language as they dance and play on the tunnel walls (if only our friend Plato were still here). However, Kant’s concept goes beyond mere linguistic expansion. Imagination evokes
solely on its own account such a wealth of thought as would never admit of comprehension in a definite concept, and, as a consequence, giving aesthetically an unbounded expansion to the concept itself, then the imagination here displays a creative activity, and it sets the faculty of intellectual ideas (reason) into movement — a movement, occasioned by a representation, towards an extension of thought, that…exceeds what can be grasped in that representation or clearly expressed. (I.II.49; emphasis added)
The creative imagination not only doesn’t oppose the rational workings of the mind, but it also actively expands the possibilities within them. Its indefinite nature facilitates the growth of intellectual ideas.
The first genealogy’s attempt to isolate itself from figuration in pursuit of a process free from ambiguity (or, as Kant puts it, the comprehension of purely definite concepts) suffers from two key flaws. First, it ignores the origins of its own vocabulary, which were, at some point, indefinite according to Kant. Second, it makes any expansion of thought beyond those definite concepts inexplicable.
In Kant’s framework, the imagination plays a crucial role in expanding concepts, even for philosophers. He specifically highlights figural symbolic expressions in philosophical discourse:
In language we have many such indirect presentations modelled upon an analogy enabling the expression in question to contain… a symbol for reflection. Thus the words ground (support, basis), to depend (to be held up from above), to flow from (instead of to follow), substance (as Locke puts it: the support of accidents), and numberless others, are…symbolic hypotyposes (I.II.59)
These commonly used terms in philosophy, like ‘to flow from’ (flissen, less common in English but ‘follow from’ is also a metaphor), express concepts indirectly, transferring them from a known object (as an object of intuition) to an unrelated one, except in terms of some perceived — and somewhat generated — rule of relations. Such transference yields concepts to which ‘perhaps no intuition could ever directly correspond’ (I.II.59).
In employing such terms, philosophical discourses, such as Locke’s, inevitably rely on unclear, indistinct ideas, despite their efforts to purge themselves of obscurity. Without this indefinite quality, Locke’s vocabulary could never have achieved the complexity required to make assertions about the indefinite itself. Variability isn’t a failure of language to achieve precision; rather, it reflects the nature of cognition and its reliance on the imagination, thus blurring the lines between cognitive and emotive expressions.
Kant sees the creativity inherent in figurative language broadly, as indirectness is a fundamental aspect of thought itself, reflected in speech. Paul de Man notes that even Kant isn’t certain where the boundary between cognition and imagination lies, as seen in the word ‘perhaps’ when Kant states that there are concepts in philosophy to which ‘perhaps no intuition could ever directly correspond’ (I.II.59, emphasis added). De Man observes that Kant argues to prove one can know if there is direct correspondence between a representation and a concept, but ‘the ‘perhaps’ raises the question of how such a decision can be made’ (De Man 47). According to Kant, this indirectness, the lack of ‘proper’ correspondence, remains irreducible even in philosophy.
Friedrich Nietzsche took Kant’s ideas about the indirect and metaphorical nature of philosophical language and pushed them to their radical extreme. In his scathing critique, On Truth and Falsity in their Ultramoral Sense, he provocatively asks, ‘What, then, is truth? A mobile army of metaphors and metonymies… Truths are illusions that we have forgotten are just that; metaphors that have become worn out’ (180). Any claim of language to directly grasp objects (as Aristotle proposed) or the concepts of objects (as Hobbes and Locke suggested) is, according to Nietzsche, merely a conceit, a ‘blinding fog before the eyes’ (174).
If we had any doubt left in our mind as to whether we should abandon sweet Ariadne as we venture deeper, Nietzsche takes Aegeus’ sword and severs the thread, turning metaphors into weapons against their own oppressors. Our lifeline vanishes, sucked away into the darkness behind us through its very tension. With no other option, we leave our more gentle accomplice Kant and storm forward under the protection of Nietzsche, our Übermensch.
Nietzsche asserts that all language, in its broadest sense, is fundamentally metaphorical, and the creation of metaphors is a ‘fundamental impulse of man, which we cannot reason away for one moment — for thereby we should reason away man himself’ (188). Metaphor, he argues, is a fundamental aspect of human interaction with the world, primarily serving to anthropomorphise the world so that humans can live in ‘tranquility, security, and constancy’ (187).
Any claim to have knowledge of fixed species, forms, or ideas is, for Nietzsche, an illusory byproduct of the metaphorical process. His philosophy stands in stark contrast to Donald Davidson’s, as Nietzsche denies the possibility of non-metaphorical meaning. According to him, any activity involving meaning relies on metaphors to function effectively.
In the world of the Homeric Greeks, nature was given personalities — stars, trees, and seasons became imbued with life, reflecting a kind of naive, innocent anthropomorphism. Yet, as philosophers took the stage, led by figures like Socrates, this innocence gave way to a confident rationalisation of nature that Nietzsche found deeply troubling. They turned from the world of apparent change and particularity towards a supposedly true world of fixed forms and stable concepts. Nietzsche vehemently opposed this shift, arguing, ‘Insofar as the senses show becoming, passing away, and change, they do not lie. But Heraclitus will remain eternally right with his assertion that being is an empty fiction. The “apparent” world is the only one: the “true” world is merely added by a lie.’ (Twilight of the Idols, §3).
Nietzsche’s defence of the ‘apparent’ over the ‘true’ aligns with his critique of the philosopher’s penchant for the ‘intelligible’ realm over the ‘visible’ (q.v. 1). He de-metahporises the reason/vision metaphor, refusing to accept the transfer of attributes from the ‘visible’ to the ‘intelligible’, choosing to remain grounded in the visible, or what he calls the ‘apparent world’ (q.v. 1). Philosophers, according to Nietzsche, elevate ‘being’ as the ultimate value, while denigrating metaphor as an irreducibly indirect mode of expression. For Nietzsche, philosophers like those in the first genealogy stop at nothing to eternalize fixed beings (forms, concepts, or ideas) as the first order of reality, but these fixed beings are only established — or invented — in contradistinction to the real world.
Nietzsche and Locke find common ground in their opposition to language that corresponds strictly to proper objects. However, their perspectives diverge on the nature of language itself. Nietzsche sees all language, even the ostensibly literal, as metaphorical. He believes that direct linguistic correspondence to a supposed hypostatic foundation — a ‘primary order’ — should be viewed sceptically. Nietzsche warns against the allure of mimetic properties in language, suggesting they create a façade built on ‘movable foundations, and, as it were, on running water’ (Truth and Falsity, 182). In his view, any attempt to ground language in fixed, immutable truths is suspect.
Kant’s Critique of Judgement has illuminated the path, shedding light on the role of imagination in our understanding of the world. Now, as we delve deeper, Nietzsche stands as our guide, cutting the thread that binds us to the familiar. With each step, the echoes of his radical philosophy reverberate through the passages, challenging our preconceptions and urging us to explore uncharted territories of thought. As we navigate the passages, the voices of our guides mingle, creating a rich tapestry of thought that stretches out before us. Each step irks our creeping suspicion that something isn’t quite right. Is our fearless Übermensch perhaps too eager to power forward? Join us next week as come face to face with Asterius in Statecraft’s Metaphorical Musings.
Harry Shakespeare-Davies is a final year PPE student, aspiring academic, and Statecraft VP.
A heartfelt thank you to Daniel Quill for graciously assisting with the additional task of reviewing this article, despite their already busy schedule. Your support is deeply appreciated.
