An interesting perspective on religion, art, ego, love, goodness, and their interconnections. Since philosophy was a while ago already, it requires a certain effort to read this. Here and there, it does assume some prior knowledge of certain concepts. It's a nice intellectual exercise though :)

Religion has always been a profound and complex aspect of human life, often intertwined with our understanding of the divine and the moral. Art, on the other hand, is a creative expression that can explore and convey these religious and philosophical ideas in unique ways. The ego, that sense of self, can either enhance or hinder our exploration of these concepts. Love and goodness are qualities that are central to many religious and philosophical traditions, and understanding their relationship to the other elements is crucial.

By delving into these topics, we can gain a deeper appreciation for the richness and complexity of human thought and experience. It allows us to question our own beliefs and assumptions, and to expand our understanding of the world around us. This exploration is not only intellectually stimulating but also has the potential to lead to personal growth and transformation.

She's essentially telling the philosophical mainstream of her day to stop being useless tits.

This statement, while perhaps a bit blunt, holds a certain degree of fairness.

In the context of the philosophical landscape of that time, there might have been a perception that the mainstream was not making significant contributions or was perhaps lost in abstractions that had little practical value.

However, it's important to note that if one is not a professional philosopher of that specific period, this particular message may not be something that one really needs to read.

After all, the concerns and discussions within a particular philosophical community can be highly specialized and relevant mainly to those actively engaged in that field.

Nonetheless, it does raise interesting questions about the role and purpose of philosophy in different eras and whether it is fulfilling its intended function.

Perhaps this criticism can serve as a catalyst for reflection and improvement within the philosophical discipline, leading to more meaningful and impactful work in the future.

I feel that there is something profoundly true about the connections Murdoch points out between Beauty and Good. The act of being drawn out of self-centered existence is similar to embarking on the path towards virtue. The capacity to perceive beauty in the world and, moreover, the choice to make it the focus of our attention can indeed bring us into contact with the concept of perfection. However, this is not in a narcissistic or anthropocentric way but rather in a way that acknowledges our own finitude in relation to perfection. Nature, as she emphasizes, brings this out clearly. When we look at a vast mountain range, a lake, an expansive tundra, or any such scene, we are filled with a sense of wonder for what lies outside the psychic energies we so strongly identify with.

Yet, I also wonder if a metropolis could have this effect too. I must admit that when faced with a sprawling concrete jungle, I am filled with dismay and perhaps a sense of man's nostalgic longing to return to nature. I often find vulgarity in the bright colors designed to arouse and attract for commercial interests. I sometimes curse when I find empty bottles in streams or thrown into hedges. Reflecting on this, though, I think it could also be the remnants of a Romantic ideology that makes us feel ashamed of covering natural beauty with utilitarian artificial structures. However, I have no doubt that there could be a person who finds incredible beauty in the world we have created for ourselves, layered over the old world as it were. I suppose it just goes back to the old saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This has made me reflect on how I relate to Beauty and the idea of perfection.

I deeply agree with her analysis of Plato's cave, identifying the fire and the self. I think this perspective has remarkable explanatory power. She would have foreseen our current age where the false enlightenment is to know oneself deeply. Self-help books are selling like hotcakes, and there are numerous autobiographies. We have this idea of being true to oneself or being one's authentic self, which is philosophically rather nebulous. In Buddhism and no doubt other cultures, the self is not seen as the psychic energies within one's mental experience and the sensations within our skin. Instead, they see the self as interconnected with everything that enters and flows through our awareness. Plato discusses this in the Republic, stating that culture creates people and people create cultures. (I think the Republic is essential reading before addressing this text, as with much of philosophy).

We do not truly confront death but merely pretend to, and as such, we cannot escape this entrenchment within the self. To face one's own death and truly acknowledge one's finitude, how can one achieve this without being humbled? This idea echoes Heidegger, and I'm not sure why Murdoch is so critical of his work. I found that his Being and Time complemented her work rather well. Perhaps it's because of his circling back to authentic living despite his enthusiasm for embracing one's own death. I think this echoes what I've discovered elsewhere, that human spirituality, properly understood, is the recognition of one's own mortality and within that, the desire to connect to something greater than oneself. Which is why I'm surprised at her critical view of rationality. I believe she may be thinking more of rationality as a computational existence, which there is much evidence to show is impossible for humans. I much prefer J. Vervaeke's idea of the rational as coming from man's drive to be in contact with reality.

Finally, I enjoyed her reflection on Love and how it has the power to bring man out of his vanity. 'However, I think that Good and Love should not be identified, and not only because human love is usually self-assertive'. This part made me think deeply as the word 'usually' suggests that love can, of course, be completely selfless. This is easy for me to imagine with love like philia and even more so with agape. But when it comes to Eros, which I understand to be a more consumptive form of love where the self becomes attached to some object, it's difficult to imagine how this could not, to some extent, always be at least partially self-assertive. Hence, in so far as romantic love shares in eros and for it to be a healthy romance, it often seems to be the case that it's difficult to imagine this kind of love without a self-assertive factor. To this extent, if one finds themselves drawn to seeking moral perfection, to chasing the Good, is it necessary for them to abandon this form of love? One is reminded that to pursue enlightenment, the Buddha left his wife and child, and Jesus claimed to love all with Agape, and many who have followed their ways saw fit to forgo marriage and partnership. Yet Socrates is different; Socrates claimed to know Eros well. This is a mystery of Love that I hoped to see explored more by Murdoch, who advocates bringing Love into the center of play in Ethics. So, I just can't bring myself to give her that final star!

This gets better and builds on itself as it goes along.

The second two essays in particular were really powerful. They presented profound ideas and perspectives that made me think deeply.

Murdoch talks shit against overly simple forms of "consolation". However, this book really was comforting in its own way. It offered a different kind of solace, one that was more meaningful and lasting.

It helped me find clarity with a lot of things I've been dealing with recently. The author's words seemed to cut through the chaos and confusion in my mind, and provided me with a new understanding and perspective.

Overall, I found this book to be a valuable and enriching read. It not only entertained me but also enlightened me and helped me grow as a person. I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a thought-provoking and inspiring book.

I had a hard time with this essay-book.

It is clearly intended for those with a philosophical education, and thus a bit beyond my reach.

Specifically, the first essay (out of three) was extremely dense, and for me, almost impossible to follow.

I read the second one in its entirety, and there too, close attention is required, but I managed.

Murdoch focuses on moral philosophy and examines what could be the source of 'good' and 'doing good'.

A small reference to Simone Weil immediately made it clear to me that she is not averse to some Neo-Platonism, which bothered me a bit.

Her critique of existentialism and humanism is very sharp, but I understand it: those two movements simply overlook the question of the source of good.

Not that Murdoch automatically operates on a transcendent-religious level, but through the detour of art (and 'the beautiful'), she manages to make it clear that reality has at least one dimension that transcends the individual human being.

Maybe, however, posing the question of what is the source of Good is not a relevant one, as it automatically points outwards.

The least one can say is that Murdoch is thought-provoking!

A Fascinating Articulation and Reclamation of Moral Philosophy

This work presents a truly captivating exploration and restoration of moral philosophy. The language employed, while rather dense at times, especially in the second essay which posed a significant challenge to parse, was not entirely beyond comprehension. In fact, the effort invested in understanding it was most definitely worthwhile.

The author's in-depth analysis and thoughtful reevaluation of moral concepts offer valuable insights that can enhance our understanding of this complex and crucial field. Despite the initial difficulties presented by the dense language, as one delves deeper, the richness and significance of the ideas begin to emerge.

Overall, this article serves as a reminder of the importance of engaging with moral philosophy and the rewards that can be reaped from grappling with its often challenging but always fascinating ideas.

The arts play a crucial role in our lives. They not only show us the seemingly pointless nature of virtue while highlighting its supreme importance but also provide a training in the love of virtue. The pointlessness of art is not like that of a game; rather, it reflects the pointlessness of human life itself. A form of art is, in fact, a simulation of the self-contained aimlessness of the universe. Good art reveals the minute and random details of the world that we are often too selfish and timid to recognize, presenting them with a sense of unity and form.

I read this in conjunction with bell hooks's All About Love, and it was a perfect pairing. Murdoch's excellent treatise on The Good and Love challenges contemporary conceptions of love as a mere sentimental experience.

Murdoch begins by asserting that there is no such thing as the private. Our internal thoughts and meditations are not truly our own and cannot be confined to an imaginary "private sphere." To form thoughts, we need knowledge of the public and engagement with the outside world, including language. Our thought lives are not self-contained within us but are influenced by those around us.

If our thought lives are not self-contained, it follows that our identities are dependent on others and the public. This is where Murdoch's assessments of art and loving become poignant. Loving beautiful art makes us more virtuous as we observe it selflessly, acknowledging its objective existence outside of ourselves. Murdoch's conception of love extends beyond art; it is about devoting attention, recognizing the other for who they are, relinquishing control, and persisting in awareness.

Murdoch also critiques a self-oriented aspect of liberalism's conception of freedom as the highest good. Instead, she defines freedom with the self as secondary and the other as primary, a freedom oriented towards the welfare and recognition of others. Freedom, according to her, is the domination of the self, the mastery of the self, and the selfless apprehension of the other. It is about recognizing the other for who they are, not who we wish them to be. This is freedom, love, the practice of the Good, and the worship of God.

Filosofi-kirjailijan viisaita pohdintoja Hyvyyden luonteesta.

Iris Murdoch is truly an enchanting figure. Ever since I read the excellent Kellon, the philosophy within it has intrigued me to explore Murdoch's academic side as well. The Sovereignty of Good is thus the most renowned work of Murdoch, who is well-versed in moral philosophy, and it consists of three lectures that she delivered throughout the 1960s.

The lectures are a passionate defense of the concept of good in philosophy. What is interesting here is precisely how strongly Murdoch opposes existentialism (and, of course, less interestingly also, for example, Ayer's emotivism). For Murdoch, good is something real, a part of the world, and not just a name that we give to relatively contingent choices.

According to Murdoch, goodness is identified in many ways with God (whom Murdoch does not, at least in the classical sense, himself believe in). If one believes in goodness and virtue, then the so-called ontological argument for goodness is valid for such a person. Goodness, in turn, gives signs of itself, for example, in the beauty of art. Art is perhaps the most crucial human aspiration for Murdoch, because good art can truly distinguish us from our selfish, almost original sin-stained selves and show us the world as it is. Despite this burden of selfishness, excellence (excellence) still attracts people to it. The often-quoted Jesus' command "Be therefore perfect" is inviting in all its awfulness. Goodness is perfection: a kind of magnet that draws us to it - or the sun that is difficult to look at directly.

It was refreshing to read such philosophy. Murdoch is indeed, as in her novels, somewhat brilliantly wise here. Although I probably won't become a Platonic virtue ethicist after reading this, it was still a convincing read.

Not my type of philosophy book

This book just didn't resonate with me. It seemed to lack the depth and complexity that I typically look for in a philosophy text. The ideas were presented in a rather simplistic manner, and I found myself quickly losing interest.

Perhaps it was aimed at a different audience, one with less prior knowledge or a different philosophical inclination. But for me, it failed to engage my mind and stimulate my thinking.

I prefer philosophy books that challenge my assumptions, make me question my beliefs, and offer new perspectives on the world. This one, unfortunately, did not meet those criteria.

Overall, I would not recommend this book to others who are seeking a more profound and thought-provoking philosophical read. It simply wasn't my cup of tea.

Probably better if you have a philosophy background.

Old Iris has a penchant for constantly expounding on art, which, in my opinion, detracts from its 5-star rating.

She seems to have an unwavering passion for sharing her thoughts and insights about various art forms.

However, sometimes her continuous chatter can become tiresome and overwhelming.

One of her statements that stuck with me is, "There are false suns, easier to gaze upon and far more comforting than the true one."

This profound thought perhaps reflects her perception that in the world of art, there are often illusions and false representations that can be more appealing and soothing than the harsh reality.

It makes me wonder if she is trying to convey that we should be cautious not to be misled by these false suns and instead strive to seek the true essence and beauty in art.

Overall, while Iris's love for art is admirable, her tendency to gas on about it might require some moderation.

This series of three essays related to the concept of the Good is often illuminating and brilliant. However, her atheistic rejection of telos and purposiveness in the world, along with her full-throated affirmation of hierarchies of excellence, truth, and virtue, seems discordant and perhaps ultimately unsustainable logically.

She offers a great deal on moral philosophy and art, explaining how both the good man and the truly excellent artist exhibit devotions to truth, beauty, and goodness that run parallel. She gets many things right, but it is distressing to find her dismissing Christ and God as metaphysical dogma and speaking only of a vague, undefinable Good with space for mysticism.

She is an ally in challenging scientism's overweening epistemological claims. I thought she might be an aid in "education for the sublime," but then I discovered she seems only to mention the sublime in relation to Kant and dismisses Kant's idea of the sublime. Instead of a rootedness in the transcendent, one finds a big conceptual Stop sign against the sublime. I'm not sure about this point, but she even seems to award the whole concept of the sublime to Kant. (This suggests I need to genealogically trace the concept of the sublime.)

There seems to be some incoherence in her view, as if she was grounded in a Christian ethic but adopted atheistic views that are superimposed on this structure.

In the last essay, "The Sovereignty of Good Over Other Concepts," she rejects the cross of Christ, holding that it is a man-made symbol that leads to emotional fallacy and denies the historical dimension of the story of Christ. She takes the cross as a symbol of converting one's own suffering for evil as "buying back evil" in the embrace of good, but in Christianity, it is the willing suffering of the Good itself that washes and cleanses us of our sin and guilt.

In the first essay, "The Idea of Perfection," she stressed the importance of adding the historical element to moral philosophy for progress in virtue. Yet, she repeatedly asserts the universe is aimless and without purpose. She emphasizes the value of great art in bringing us closer to the real and the true through difficult self-mastery, but then tops it off by saying it is aimless and purposeless and that we are self-contained and make our own meaning, which undermines her stress on the outward objectivity of the good.

I am partial to her observations about literature and art, and her philosophy and observations about morality have aspects that I find bracing with their promise of improvement through application. However, her views on art are vexed by apparent self-contradiction when compared to her lover Michael Oakeshott's.

Despite meeting the facile criteria of being a woman, Murdoch's thought runs counter to Woke theology as she robustly enjoins the striving for excellence. She would have no patience for Woke eschewal of "natural hierarchies of competence." Her lofty view of the aims of art and the consequent judgment on most art is disparate with the Woke view.

Wokeism depends on the triumph of the therapeutic and the affirmation of an inner identity quarantined from objective reality. In contrast, Murdoch commends the objective or ontological striving and recognizes the propensity of people to delude themselves. Truly great art and morality depend on an exceptional pursuit of the truth by the individual.

Her understanding of the nature of art and goodness in relation to the truth provides an implied critique of masturbatory fantasy and pornography. The elevation of the pursuit of truth in art contrasts with Oakeshott's view. Because Woke identity depends on inner solipsism, it does not incorporate the notion of the greatness of the artist who empties the self to see. Wokeism's principles require an immunity to beauty's summons, as beauty summons us out of ourselves. The disjunction of beauty and truth remains in Wokeism, and the therapeutic has triumphed, not to be confronted with objective and ontological reality.

The experience of reading these essays was truly remarkable, as if I was having a vivid dream. I completed reading them just yesterday, but in the short period of autopilot that followed, I have already forgotten a significant portion of those profound insights.

Nevertheless, I would still highly recommend reading this collection. The central idea, more or less, is that attention plays a crucial role in morality. It emphasizes the importance of attempting to truly perceive the world and other people as they actually are.

The last essay in particular posits literature as a valuable guide that can assist us in achieving this. Although it is not explicitly mentioned, I would venture to guess that science serves as the guide for understanding nature, while literature acts as the guide to the complex human condition.

Overall, these essays offer a thought-provoking exploration of morality and the role of literature in helping us gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.