How should one
read the great intellectual works of the past? What is the relation between
these texts and the thoughts, preconceptions, concerns -- the intellectual
"baggage" -- the reader brings in the act of reading? What is the basis or
justification for the manner in which one approaches a text? What claims,
implicit as well as explicit, is one making in one's interpretation? For the
most part, one settles into a non-reflexive pattern of reading. One approaches
the texts with a certain implicit set of concerns and assumptions, in accordance
with training and habit. One proceeds to interpret the author's stance on
particular issues according to the methodologies with which one is familiar
without much further ado. In light of contemporary intellectual trends, however,
one is now often confronted directly with these problems and can no longer
ignore them.
2 What is the basis
for favoring a certain approach? Can we ascribe greater "truth value" to one
over another, or even to any given interpretation over another. Does all "truth"
simply exist in the mind of the beholder? Is there anyway of knowing what the
author's intended meaning was, or is such knowledge even important. Let the text
stand as an entity in its own right that says different things to different
readers, spreading its light in a variety of ways in accordance with the
characteristics of its recipients. Why should I even care what the author
intended when only the text remains, presenting to us its infinite
possibilities? As a student of medieval Jewish philosopher I had naively assumed
that my training was preparing me to "hear" accurately the great thinkers of the
past. If I listened hard to the words they wrote together with those they read,
not only would I understand what they were saying. I would also grasp what they
were driving at or what was driving them, even when they were not fully
conscious of these points. Having done that, I would be able to better evaluate
their conceptions and place them in a proper historical perspective. Now I am
left wondering what exactly is it that I am doing in my research and why I am
doing it. I can no longer listen to the text without continuously probing my own
mind. I can no longer ask questions of the text without asking myself about the
basis for these questions and the way I go about finding the answer. I would
like to address a few of these problems through the prism of a particular text
that has occupied my attention over the years - Judah Halevi's
Kuzari.
3