Your conversation with her about colors and sounds touches on something I think about a lot - how music seems to communicate things that words alone can't quite capture.
Erica, I am fascinated by the question you asks at the end of your essay: "But I find that the interest in this topic lies at least as much in the questions as it does in the answers." How true and how revealing! At least in philosophy, it seems we can never get any final answers to our questions; and yet we cannot stop asking them. Why? I am now reading Plato's REPUBLIC as a part of a Substack read-along and I keep asking myself this question: Has philosophy made any progress in the last 2,500 years? Have we actually answered any of the questions that Socrates asked? If not, then what are we doing?
Here's another take on how music means. For me, music is the most "meaningful" and thus moving when it succeeds in expressing what we cannot express in words. For that reason, the less programmatic and more abstract it is, the more universal it becomes. Then music is no longer restrained by words or concrete images but, rather, is allowed to soar in infinite freedom. My favorite piece of Beethoven is the second movement of his last piano sonata (#32). Near the middle of it, all of a sudden, the music takes off, leaps beyond our human world, and enters a transcendent universe of complete beauty and freedom! What a miracle! This is the piece of music I turn to whenever I need uplifting or inspiration.
I'm not sure I'm familiar with that sonata, unfortunately, but I'll look it up.
I do think philosophy makes progress--for instance, care ethis is progress, and also new disciplines spin off when questions get defined well enough to found a new field, and also we definitely know more now about the basic stuff of the universe than Heraclitus or Thales did--but I also think the question of progress is the wrong one to ask. The issue is that our exact circumstances are always a little different from those in which a given piece of philosophy was done, and while there's plenty of relevance across circumstances, each situation has its own bits that invite slightly different questions and thus slightly different answers. Aristotle is largely right about how to live when it comes to broad strokes, but exactly how to bring his thinking to bear on a current situation is an open and debatable question. It's true that answers we give are only provisional, and in that sense philosophy is never done, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make progress.
Your point about progress not being the right question to ask is well-taken. I agree.
By coincidence, this morning I found these comments by Heidegger in one of his later essays about language; he was commenting on an earlier statement he had made about "Questioning is the piety of thinking." He says: "the true stance of thinking cannot be to put questions, but must be to listen to that which our questioning vouchsafes--and all questioning begins to be a questioning only in virtue of pursuing its quest for essential Being."
I think this is a fruitful way of thinking about the history of philosophy; though I want to avoid falling into mysticism.
Music is fascinating in so many ways. Even though I played the guitar when I was young and I do enjoy music, I have to admit that it does not have as dramatic of an effect on me as it does on many other people (unless I have a little alcohol or cannabis).
I became fascinated by music while observing my daughter receiving music therapy and the significant effect it has on her, despite her intellectual disability. It is a speculation, but music seems to strike and take over a more primitive part of the brain, perhaps the limbic system, and can not only directly stoke emotions but also induce movement (also known as dancing). The prefrontal cortex exerts control over the limbic system (the emotional center of the brain) and motor function. Physiologically, it makes sense that substances like alcohol and cannabis, which interfere with normal prefrontal cortical function, would disinhibit emotions and lead to excessive movement (dancing). Some people with “thinner” prefrontal cortexes don’t need to be intoxicated to respond dramatically to music emotionally and with dancing, while others, similar to myself, might need a little help to achieve the same response. Perhaps this is why emotional lability is probably more common in musicians; unfortunately, there are tradeoffs for being able to enjoy music so much (if you could call this a tradeoff, perhaps not!).
This is really interesting! I have a book on my shelf that's been there for years and I haven't picked up yet called *This is Your Brain on Music.* It's probably outdated now in terms of current research, but it's something I'm in principle interested in.
Your conversation with her about colors and sounds touches on something I think about a lot - how music seems to communicate things that words alone can't quite capture.
Erica, I am fascinated by the question you asks at the end of your essay: "But I find that the interest in this topic lies at least as much in the questions as it does in the answers." How true and how revealing! At least in philosophy, it seems we can never get any final answers to our questions; and yet we cannot stop asking them. Why? I am now reading Plato's REPUBLIC as a part of a Substack read-along and I keep asking myself this question: Has philosophy made any progress in the last 2,500 years? Have we actually answered any of the questions that Socrates asked? If not, then what are we doing?
Here's another take on how music means. For me, music is the most "meaningful" and thus moving when it succeeds in expressing what we cannot express in words. For that reason, the less programmatic and more abstract it is, the more universal it becomes. Then music is no longer restrained by words or concrete images but, rather, is allowed to soar in infinite freedom. My favorite piece of Beethoven is the second movement of his last piano sonata (#32). Near the middle of it, all of a sudden, the music takes off, leaps beyond our human world, and enters a transcendent universe of complete beauty and freedom! What a miracle! This is the piece of music I turn to whenever I need uplifting or inspiration.
I'm not sure I'm familiar with that sonata, unfortunately, but I'll look it up.
I do think philosophy makes progress--for instance, care ethis is progress, and also new disciplines spin off when questions get defined well enough to found a new field, and also we definitely know more now about the basic stuff of the universe than Heraclitus or Thales did--but I also think the question of progress is the wrong one to ask. The issue is that our exact circumstances are always a little different from those in which a given piece of philosophy was done, and while there's plenty of relevance across circumstances, each situation has its own bits that invite slightly different questions and thus slightly different answers. Aristotle is largely right about how to live when it comes to broad strokes, but exactly how to bring his thinking to bear on a current situation is an open and debatable question. It's true that answers we give are only provisional, and in that sense philosophy is never done, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make progress.
Your point about progress not being the right question to ask is well-taken. I agree.
By coincidence, this morning I found these comments by Heidegger in one of his later essays about language; he was commenting on an earlier statement he had made about "Questioning is the piety of thinking." He says: "the true stance of thinking cannot be to put questions, but must be to listen to that which our questioning vouchsafes--and all questioning begins to be a questioning only in virtue of pursuing its quest for essential Being."
I think this is a fruitful way of thinking about the history of philosophy; though I want to avoid falling into mysticism.
"I think this is a fruitful way of thinking about the history of philosophy; though I want to avoid falling into mysticism." --Yes to both of those!
Music is fascinating in so many ways. Even though I played the guitar when I was young and I do enjoy music, I have to admit that it does not have as dramatic of an effect on me as it does on many other people (unless I have a little alcohol or cannabis).
I became fascinated by music while observing my daughter receiving music therapy and the significant effect it has on her, despite her intellectual disability. It is a speculation, but music seems to strike and take over a more primitive part of the brain, perhaps the limbic system, and can not only directly stoke emotions but also induce movement (also known as dancing). The prefrontal cortex exerts control over the limbic system (the emotional center of the brain) and motor function. Physiologically, it makes sense that substances like alcohol and cannabis, which interfere with normal prefrontal cortical function, would disinhibit emotions and lead to excessive movement (dancing). Some people with “thinner” prefrontal cortexes don’t need to be intoxicated to respond dramatically to music emotionally and with dancing, while others, similar to myself, might need a little help to achieve the same response. Perhaps this is why emotional lability is probably more common in musicians; unfortunately, there are tradeoffs for being able to enjoy music so much (if you could call this a tradeoff, perhaps not!).
This is really interesting! I have a book on my shelf that's been there for years and I haven't picked up yet called *This is Your Brain on Music.* It's probably outdated now in terms of current research, but it's something I'm in principle interested in.
Enjoyed this! and also have a cello kid!
High five! :)