Review of Wittgenstein Biography

I am not normally a big one for either biographies or formal philosophy per se. But, my close friend Karl, knowing that I needed reading material during this plague lock down, brought by a big pile of books. I knew from our many discussions that he is personally a fan of Nietzsche. So, I was surprised to find among the books, Ludwig Wittgenstein, The Duty of Genius by Ray Monk, published in 1990 by Jonathan Cape Ltd. I was equally surprised to find myself starting it when there were novels and other sorts of what I consider far more congenial reads readily available.

Whatever possessed me to begin it was a benign sort of demon I suppose, and I was quickly under its power.

I have ever been susceptible to the felicitous phrase, and well-crafted sentences will draw me along even when the subject matter or characters entrance me not. Such is the case here. The prose strikes just the right balance between literary artfulness and academic rigor. Monk negotiates the tightrope gracefully. The subject of genius is difficult to negotiate – especially in biography. Geniuses are by nature outside of the common bounds. They do not live within the normal emotional boundaries, and so the soul of their creations must also be presented in order to make them even remotely sympathetic. In general, they are difficult if not impossible to live with, and their lives are largely tragic as a result. There are no cheerful geniuses, and Wittgenstein was no exception. If anything, he was exceptionally hard on himself and thus on all his family and friends. His life was largely celibate, and he believed that sensual satisfaction and proximity to the loved one resulted in the death of love – a formula for misery if ever there was one.

Wittgenstein’s thinking is considered with good reason equally difficult. He believed that only philosophers should think about the questions of philosophy, and that it had no general relevance to life at large or to any applications beyond the rarified realm of thought. He believed it a passionate endeavor. He was also, like many philosophers a stickler for style and expression in language and was so critical of his own efforts that he published extraordinarily little in his lifetime. He stated as one of his core beliefs that, “distrust of grammar is the first requisite of philosophizing.”

His thinking evolved at such a pace that he quickly became dissatisfied and dismissive of what he had produced before. So advanced was his thought in the many arenas that he played in that few if any of his peers understood him. They knew that they were in the presence of genius but could not follow his thought. He was himself contemptuous of most of his philosophic contemporaries and so did not even have the consolation of their company. Frank Ramsey, one of the few friends with an adequate intellect to stimulate Wittgenstein, died in his mid- twenties. Intellectual, emotional, and physical isolation increased for Wittgenstein after this.

I have no ability to follow his thought in the areas of logic and language that obsessed him. But, some of his thoughts about religion stimulated my own. He believed that the main use of the practice of religion (as distinct from a belief in a god) was in the healing or soothing aspects. So, in a sense the mentally and emotionally fit or healthy have not real need of religion. Hence the phrase, “Religion is the hospital of the heartbroken.”

He also was fascinated by the concept embodied by the phrase from the New Testament that, “The Kingdom of God is within you.” Because of course where else could it be? Not in the heavens somewhere. That idea was disposed of long ago. God originates from us, so of course can only live within us. Can anyone seriously believe that god has an existence separate from us? If the universe were free of us – it would also be free of the gods. God will not be dead until we are gone – in this Nietzsche was incorrect.