Aangezien ik dit boek in het Nederlands las, ga ik er ook in het Nederlands over schrijven. Dankzij de prachtige bibliotheeksticker stond er op de rug van mijn versie uiteindelijk: Ludwig Wittgenstein: Portret van een Wittgenstein. (Wat naar mijn bescheiden mening een stuk beter klinkt 'gekwelde geest').

Om maar direct even heel eerlijk te zijn, dit was de eerste biografe die ik ooit heb gelezen en het komt ook direct het dichtst in de buurt van een filosofisch boek. Ik heb geen idee waarom ik het geleend heb maar ik weet wel dat ik absoluut niet verwacht had het zo leuk te vinden. Ik deed er ongeveer een maand over om dit boek uit te lezen: het kostte me telkens moeite er weer in te komen, maar wanneer ik er eenmaal weer in zat (vaak na zo’n vijf pagina’s), bleef ik ook lezen zodat de meeste leessessies minstens een uur duurden.

De schrijfstijl is niet eens heel boeiend, vrij droog, weinig gevoel, ik had het idee dat dit deels ook door de vertaling kwam. Gelukkig bestaat het boek voor een groot deel uit primair materiaal: brieven, dagboekfragmenten, zelfs kranten- en tijdschriftartikelen. (Opnieuw had ik wel het idee dat deze aangetast waren door de vertaling, ze schenen in schrijfstijl veel overeen te komen.) Maar het was fantastisch, alsof je in een archief gegooid werd en snipper voor snipper iemands leven in elkaar zette. Het was fascinerend om te lezen hoe personen verschenen en verdwenen, wie er overbleef en wie je dacht dat zou blijven maar nooit meer terugkeerde. Het is vreemd om je te beseffen dat het leven afgelopen was: dat het al plaatsgevonden had. Wanneer je fictie leest kan alles nog gebeuren, lijkt elke bladzijde op dat moment plaats te vinden maar hier ken je het einde al, hier is alles al voor je gedaan.

Daarnaast zat er in het boek genoeg filosofie om te voorkomen dat het simpelweg een soap werd. Toevallig zijn we op dit moment op school met kennisleer bezig en de dingen waar Wittgenstein zich mee bezig hield, sluiten hier best op aan. Ik merkte dat bepaalde dingen me opvielen in de les door wat ik in het boek gelezen had, maar dat daarentegen ook het boek duidelijker werd door achtergrondinformatie uit de les: ik vermoed dat ik sommige passages zonder niet begrepen had. (Ook nu nog waren er genoeg dingen die ik niet begreep. Maar het is geruststellend om te weten dat een groot filosoof er niet voor terugdeinsde zijn gedachten en meningen radicaal te veranderen. Dat ik over veertig jaar nog kan zeggen: \\"Nu weet ik hoe het echt zit.\\")

I'm extremely proud that I had the opportunity to be an editorial intern and publicity intern at The Free Press when this remarkable book was on the verge of coming out. At that time, I was majoring in philosophy, which made it an ideal fit. I discovered that the prose within the book was so lucid, moving, evocative, human, and real. It effortlessly counterbalanced anything that the "cool black boots wearing" Yale philosophy white male posse (and you know exactly who you were) could have said to me in an attempt to convince me that somehow I "wouldn't" be able to understand Wittgenstein. (I wrote my thesis on it with Stanley Cavell as my advisor, thank you very much.)

The relationship with Klimt was exquisitely drawn (no pun intended), and I truly cherished the portrayal of intellectual integrity. Despite whatever flaws he might have had, he lived and breathed for the sake of clarity of thought. This aspect of the book really resonated with me and made it a truly unforgettable read. It not only provided deep insights into the subject matter but also offered a fascinating look into the human psyche and the pursuit of knowledge and truth. I'm so glad I was part of the team that helped bring this book to the public.

Wittgenstein repeatedly emphasized in his lectures that he was not presenting any philosophical theory. Instead, he was merely providing the means to avoid the need for such a theory. The syntax and grammar of our thought, contrary to his earlier belief, could not be delineated or revealed through analysis, whether it was phenomenological or otherwise. He stated that "philosophical analysis does not tell us anything new about thought (and if it did it would not interest us)." The rules of grammar could not be justified or even described by philosophy. For instance, philosophy could not consist of a list of "fundamental" rules that determine the "depth-grammar" (using Chomsky's term) of our language. As he put it, "We never arrive at fundamental propositions in the course of our investigation; we get to the boundary of language which stops us from asking further questions. We don't get to the bottom of things, but reach a point where we can go no further, where we cannot ask further questions."

A truly remarkable book, written by a person who is not only extremely knowledgeable about all of Wittgenstein's works (even those that remained only as annotations!) but also able to convey to us what his philosophical thought was – an extremely difficult task, considering that Wittgenstein metaphorically dismantled almost everything that other philosophers (or scientists, or writers) thought because he aimed to first and foremost bring "clarity in language." He was convinced, in fact, that so many doubts and so much confusion stemmed from an inappropriate linguistic expression – only that finding the right word, suitable for expressing what he had in mind, was another "mind-boggling" task (as, incidentally, Wittgenstein himself defined it, half seriously and half facetiously).

Viennese, a contemporary of Freud, he fought (by choice!) in the First World War because he was convinced (not wrongly) that direct contact with death would have had an important influence on his thoughts. The first and foremost refuter of Russell, he later became a philosophy teacher at Cambridge, yet always deeply detested the town itself and then English culture (unfortunately, he is buried in Cambridge because he died there).

A life spent in thought, an activity that made him most like himself and for which he demanded so much solitude and quiet (he had built a special little house in the middle of nowhere in Norway) and yet he understood (and expressed it clearly!) that he still needed others, that he couldn't manage to live on his own as he also declared that he needed moments that were intellectually simple (he adored Westerns, musicals, and thrillers). Most likely, he was an asperger.

Wittgenstein is also famous for his behavioral anomalies that made him a manic person (not only of quiet but also of cleanliness: he cleaned or had cleaned – the floors of his house, scattering wet tea leaves to absorb the dust, which he then of course swept away; or he would fixate on a certain type of food and it had to be only that: first it was bread and cheese, then carbon biscuits, then something else. Meals always had to be served in his room - he didn't like to eat with others, and at the same time) but at the same time a candid person – in both good and bad. He offended many people (even though everyone understood that there was no malice in Wittgenstein, only the search for coherence by a person who perhaps was not like everyone else), just as he also knew how to demonstrate great acts of affection, which came unexpectedly. "Tell them I had a wonderful life." were the last words of Ludwig Wittgenstein. A book that I really liked a lot.