Leibniz, Spinoza & the Fate of God in the Modern World
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I am fascinated by the moments of serendipity in history, the crossing of historical paths in surprising and illuminating ways. For example, Ted Williams was John Glenn's wingman? I wouldn't have believed that in a historical novel, but it really happened. Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein and German Dictator Adolph Hitler were in the same class as teenagers, and there are class pictures to prove it? Well, why not?, but how weird?
The nice feature of these conjunctions, and the history books written about them, is that they somehow demonstrate that famous historical figures were merely human, particularly since these events usually occurred before the individuals became famous. Ted Williams was famous before the Korean War, but John Glenn was not yet the man who orbited the planet. These books also illuminate the time and place in interesting ways.
In this book, the odd moment of conjunction involves the future inventor of Calculus meeting, Gottfried Leibniz, meeting the older excommunicated Benedict Spinoza at Spinoza's home in The Hague in 1676. The meeting lasted an afternoon, and there is a fair indication that they discussed, naturally, their mutual interest in the nature of God. There was some correspondence between the two thereafter, but since Spinoza died in 1677, there was not much development of their relationship.
Author Matthew Stewart does not give us much reason to be optimistic that a relationship would have developed if Spinoza had lived. Manichean dichotomy is the theme of the book. Spinoza was a secular saint, committed to a life of poverty while he advanced his philosophy that would become the foundation for modernity. Leibniz was an opportunist and grifter who got into fights with everyone and swindled his benefactors.Are these characterizations fair? Maybe so, but I got the feeling that Stewart had a distinct rooting interest for the atheist Spinoza and that he used his characterization of Leibniz to magnify the glory of his hero.
There was an element of Stewart's book that I found interesting, but Stewart doesn't develop, namely the international community of letters. The figures in Stewart's book were constantly writing long gossipy letters to each other, which could prove embarrassing if revealed publically or to the wrong person. Leibniz was writing to philosophers in England, Germany and France, and receiving replies, while at the same time, those philosophers were communicating with other philosophers throughout Europe. Often these letters became the books that later generations would read in order to discover the philosophies that make up the Western philosophical tradition. Letters were entrusted to friends and agents in order to be delivered. In the age before national posts, they were presumably given to ships or tradesmen headed in the desired direction. The fact that there was such an international community is amazing. Again, though, this is not Stewart's interest, but in the hands of a more reflective historian, it would have made for a great chapter.
Stewart is at his best in discussing the philosophical systems of Spinoza and Leibniz. Leibniz was characterized by Voltaire as “Dr. Pangloss” and while Stewart describes Leibnizian philosophy as incoherent and confused, he does offer a description that shows there was more depth to Leibniz than caricatures suggest. Of course, Stewart finds Spinoza's philosophy to be off the chart brilliant, although it shares a certain incomprehensibility with Leibniz's. Stewart argues that Leibniz was a supporter of Spinoza prior to Spinoza's death, and may have been seeking to meet Spinoza so that some of Spinoza's glory might rub off on him, but after Spinoza's death, Leibniz trimmed his sails to become a public Spinoza opponent, while remaining a Spinoza disciple in his heart.
Is this true? Obviously, I'm not a scholar of the subject, which is why I was reading this book. Unfortunately, Stewart's adulation for Spinoza had the effect of putting me off his lead. My usual motto is never read “a” book on a subject, read several. In this case, Stewart's adulation of Spinoza eroded my trust in his judgment such that I won't be citing his book uncritically without checking his judgment.
I also found this book to be a slog. I've had the book for several years and have tried to read it previously. I got through it this time out of a grim determination to finish it. The writing is well-done, but somehow the endless tropes of “wonderful Spinoza” and “grifter Leibniz” became tiring. Likewise, Stewart's unwillingness to flesh out the cultural mileau in which Spinoza and Leibniz found themselves defeated my expectations. I would have given this book a 3.5 stars if I could, but the scholarship in this book and the book's gesture toward issues like the international community of letters, were sufficient value added to warrant four stars.