On Certainty (Ludwig Wittgenstein, 1969)

There are, I suppose, certain inherent dangers in trying to write anything (even something as flimsy as a blog post) about Ludwig Wittgenstein, especially for someone who is just getting interested in philosophy. Nevertheless, perhaps I can mitigate some of these pitfalls by stating as simply as possible the reason I happen to be setting down some thoughts about this most venerable of philosophers: I like the guy. I mean, I'm still working my way through the Philosophical Investigations (1953) and I couldn't very well venture to say that I've got anything like a firm grasp on all of his ideas (most of them directly dealing with the philosophy of language and mind but by extension with the whole of philosophy, from metaphysics to aesthetics), but I must say he is a very intriguing figure. Instead of trying to back up this claim with something of a summary, I will direct you to two very diferent sources: the first is a forty-minute TV program in which John Searle gives a succint overview of Wittgenstein's philosophy; the second, and much more interesting for the purposes at hand, is Derek Jarman's 1993 film Wittgenstein, which in its glorious seventy-two minutes manages not only to paint a fascinating and touching portrait of Ludwig (both as a precocious young boy and later as a troubled genius finding his way in and out of Cambridge) but also features various actors (among them Tilda Swinton) portraying the important figures in his life, namely Betrand Russell, Lady Ottoline Russell, John Maynard Keynes, and of course the whole Wittgenstein clan. (As a sidenote I should mention that I look forward to reading Alexander Waugh's recently-published The House of Wittgenstein: A Family at War.)

Finally, I'll conclude with some of my favorite excerpts from Wittgenstein's On Certainty (1969):

383. The argument "I may be dreaming" is senseless for this reason: if I am dreaming, this remark is being dreamed as well - and indeed it is also being dreamed that these words have any meaning.

467. I am sitting with a philosopher in the garden; he says again and again "I know that that's a tree", pointing to a tree that is near us. Someone else arrives and hears this, and I tell him: "This fellow isn't insane. We are only doing philosophy."

471. It is so difficult to find the beginning. Or, better: it is difficult to begin at the beginning. And not try to go further back.