Sunday, October 26, 2008

From the General to the Particular

Wendy Doniger seeks to understand mythology as a universal human phenomenon and attempts to identify common characteristics among mythologies. Considering my interest in mythical creatures within Ancient Israelite religion, this book was of particular interest to me. However, rather than focusing upon her understanding of mythology, her book brought another concern to mind. In particular, I found it very interesting how her book clearly demonstrates the necessity that humans relate the similar to the different, or the particular to the general. This necessity appears to be a deeply ingrained disposition within the human psyche and sheds light on how we must approach the study of mythology, and, more generally, religion.

To clarify what is meant by working from the particular to the general, I do not insinuate that we begin to studying the world by examining the tiniest particles and moving from them to the next tiniest particles, etc. Rather, I speak about the human tendency of moving from what is most familiar in everyday life to the more obscure. Consider the shepherd boy who spends his days tending to sheep. From his everyday experience, he knows that sheep are short creatures, with a thick fleece, etc. Clearly, the shepherd boy will recognize a sheep when he sees one; moreover, if he has a flock consisting of both white and black sheep, he will know that they are closely related creatures. If the boy has never seen any other animal other than sheep, and one day a goat from the neighboring hills wanders into his flock, will he consider the beast to be identical to the sheep in his flock? Certainly not! He will say, this creature has four legs, two eyes, etc., but where is its fleece? However, since he has not been previously exposed to any other sort of animal except sheep, he might even be inclined to label the goat a short-haired, horned sheep (or something similar) based on its comparison to the sheep.

Instinctively, humanity appears to have this tendency to compare and contrast things that are new and unusual to what is more familiar. Consider what Doniger says about the caveperson (who is our ancestor) and the saber-toothed tiger; namely, that even though the tiger has some differences in appearance to the lion that the caveperson decides to run from the tiger as he did from the lion (28). Doniger uses this example to strengthen her argument for the comparative mythologies approach; however, I contend that this example demonstrates a more universal human necessity of moving from the general to the particular or, similarly, to move from ‘the similar’ to ‘the different’. Here for the caveperson, the lion acts as the general or similar and the tiger as the particular or different.

Similarly, Max Muller makes the case that religion results from the experience of the particular and the contemplation of what lies beyond the finite. Max Muller demonstrates how this is the case for the ancient Aryans and demonstrates that through examining the pre-Buddhist period we can examine through linguistics how the notion of the divine evolved out of the human contemplation of the other (The Hibbert Lectures 1878: 145-152). Hence, Muller demonstrates how the human understanding of the divine or infinite (what is general) derives out of studying what is more familiar (the finite).

This is precisely the underlying point Doniger is getting at in her approach to the telescopic and microscopic view. She iterates this quite clearly in her reference to Oh What a Lovely War when she discuses the hero who is sitting under the tree which turns into a cross and disappears into a sea of crosses (20). What the viewer is really doing here is identifying with one particular person and using that person as a gateway to better understand all of the members of the graveyard. Were other soldiers like the hero of the film? Did other soldiers enjoy reading under trees? We use the protagonist as our point of comparison when it comes to the other soldiers buried beneath the white crosses. Since the protagonist is what is most familiar to us, he is used as a sort of prototype by which we can judge the identity of the other soldiers, in how they are both similar and deviate from the hero.

Finally, I wanted to note how Doniger’s own approach to the study of mythology utilizes the approach of comparing what is more familiar with what is less familiar. In particular, consider her discussion on Tamar and Judah, and Helena and Betram (36-41). Her approach is to first of all discuss what is similar between the two (36), and, then, she proceeds to discuss how the “gaps” in the Tamar and Judah story might be filled by examining comparable myths (40-41). Hence, she moves from what is more general amongst these stories to examining the missing details in the stories (what is more specific).

It seems to me inescapable to leave the method of moving from what is more particular to the more general. Moreover, this position is evidenced by Doniger’s notion that within the myth is both the microscopic and the telescopic. This demonstrates that humans must work from what is more readily available on an everyday level to what is more unusual. In particular, what she demonstrates, similar to what Muller upholds, is that humans require some sort of basis or anchor in everyday life in order to attempt to understand the divine (as is the case in Job and the Bhagavata Purana). The upshot of this human tendency of working from the general to the particular demonstrates that humans are unable to escape a categorical approach to learning, and, thus, it appears that the European project of comparative theology as really being a comparison of Christianity, to the other world’s traditions, as Masuzawa examines, is an inevitable sort of human reaction since humans have the tendency to compare what is most familiar to what is unfamiliar.

Hence, it is important to use this approach of the particular towards the general as a basis in pedagogy. Hence, when it comes to the study of religions introducing students to religious studies through a first year World Religions course is quite fitting. In particular, it is important for the student of religion to study world religions in a very generalized way so that upon further study, the student may compare and contrast how individual religious traditions are either similar or deviate from the generalized models discussed in the introductory course.

2 comments:

Adam Asgarali said...

Hi Andrew,

I definitely agree that humans seem to instinctively reason from the similar to the different, from the particular to the general. But I’m not sure if this is entirely necessary. By accepting this notion, are we concluding that we cannot reason in any other way? We do indeed have the tendency to move from our own familiar experiences and understandings to more obscure points of view. Yet, I am not sure that we must do so.

Although your example regarding the shepherd boy illustrates this process of similar-different reasoning taking place, I am not entirely certain that such a thought process is inevitable in all circumstances. In the study of religion in particular, can we adopt another method of analyzing various religious traditions, phenomena, text, etc.? It is common to study a particular tradition by reasoning from our own experiences and background. For example, someone who lives in a Judeo-Christian society and is experiencing Buddhism for the first time may initially ask questions such as “Do Buddhists believe in ‘God’?” or “What is the name of the Buddhist God?”, etc., questions that clearly portray reasoning based upon Judeo-Christian assumptions. Yet, are there any alternative approaches by which we can understand religious phenomena? For example, could we study a particular religious tradition without taking into account its similarities or differences to our own experiences? Also, can we attempt to comprehend the “divine” without reasoning from our own practical (concrete) experience to the abstract? I am not suggesting that we abandon the comparative method that Doniger advocates, as I find it extremely beneficial. Rather, I wonder if this comparative method that we seem to apply to any and all phenomena and objects of study is a necessary psychological process (i.e. a deeply ingrained disposition within the human psyche, as you mention) or a choice that we make (albeit, repeatedly) in the course of our lives?

- Adam

Anonymous said...

Hi Andrew,

In your comment “I contend that this example demonstrates a more universal human necessity of moving from the general to the particular or, similarly, to move from ‘the similar’ to ‘the different’”, I find a truism. In my blog this week I tried to show that the structure of ‘the mythical’, the oscillation between actual finitude and potential infinitude, the latter being the mode in which the mystic, for example, experiences the Divine and the former the mode in which the human experiences death or a ‘being-towards-death’, since we never actually experience our own death, ‘is’ the structure of being human, or human ‘being’. Our world, our finitude is mythical, it is this oscillation between the singular and the universal. I think you see something that is fundamental to being human and I think you see something that is fundamental to being human and certainly to experiencing humanness.

Near the end, you go on to say:

The upshot of this human tendency of working from the general to the particular demonstrates that humans are unable to escape a categorical approach to learning, and, thus, it appears that the European project of comparative theology as really being a comparison of Christianity, to the other world’s traditions, as Masuzawa examines, is an inevitable sort of human reaction since humans have the tendency to compare what is most familiar to what is unfamiliar.

I think that this doesn’t necessarily have to follow from our being the way we are, since we can locate ourselves in the actual finitude of our being alone, thus ignoring our potential infinitude. If the Christian comparativist embraced the oscillatory mode of his being, he would embrace its ‘infinite’ potential and remain ‘open’ in his comparative readings and so would not restrict his comparison to a reading wherein Christianity is somehow ‘the universal’, that is, the ‘true’ universal in relation to which all other myths or religions pale in comparison. Doniger, as I’m sure you remember, speaks of comparative mythology beginning from the ‘neutral’, not from the immense prejudice that one religion is the essence of being, of being human and of being Truth. She attempts to dispel the Platonic notion of the originary form, from which all else derives and in comparison to which all else is a pale, dimmed reflection of the One, True Being.

Babak