Tag: heidegger

  • Imagination’s Drift from Phantasia to Transcendental Tension

    In Mind’s World, Alexander Schlutz demonstrates how imagination evolves from a vague mediator in ancient thinking to a doubtful but necessary function in modern knowledge to a space of metaphysical opening and political risk. Imagination can be viewed as a threshold between sense and thought, spontaneity and receptivity, law and freedom. As such, it poses a threat to the order of systems, the authority of reason, and the coherency of the subject.

    From the ancient idea of phantasia to Kant’s schematism and the transcendental subject, imagination never really fits into the categories reason ascribes to it. It is first deemed an activity between sense and thought, later becoming limited with the rise of modern subjectivity, and reappearing as a foundational and destabilizing force in metaphysics. Rather than being a passive mirror, it appears as a battleground where the definitions and demarcations of subject, reason, and freedom are at stake.

    In ancient Greece, “phantasia” was not the same as the modern idea of imagination. Instead of being a creative force, it served as a bridge between sensation and thought. Plato viewed phantasia with suspicion; it belonged to the world of shadows and illusion and needed rational control for the subject to reach true knowledge. On the other hand, for Aristotle, phantasia was an important activity; it was neither purely sensory nor rational. It helped create the internal images (phantasmata) necessary for thought, yet it remained subordinate to reason.

    It is in rhetorical traditions and later Stoic thought that phantasia starts to look more like the current understanding of imagination. Orators used it to create vivid images in their audience’s minds. Artists like Phidias were thought to access divine forms through phantasia, but this was still rooted in a Platonic hierarchy where philosophy ruled and imagination was its subordinate.

    Descartes’ philosophy, representing the rise of the modern subject, largely depends on repressing imagination. He viewed imagination, linked to the senses, with doubt; as a realm of illusion, not knowledge. For Descartes, the thinking self must separate from everything imagined in order to find certainty. Yet, this separation isn’t straightforward. Descartes’ early writings and dream narratives show his deep interest in inspiration, intuition, and imaginative vision. He introduces his scientific methods through a “fable”, and his radical doubt relies on imagination’s ability to create and pretend. Thus, while the cogito excludes imagination, it also depends on it. This contradiction creates a space, a “return of the repressed”, where imagination haunts the very certainty it is supposed to challenge.

    Kant attempts to resolve this tension by placing imagination within a transcendental framework. Imagination becomes the faculty that connects intuitions from the senses and concepts from understanding. Without it, cognition cannot happen. Thus, it is essential, but also risky. Kant raises and lowers imagination. In his Critique of Pure Reason, imagination is central to cognition, yet it must be controlled by reason and understanding. In his Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View, the dangers of imagination become much clearer: it is connected to fantasy, madness, and political chaos. The “Phantast” is not just a madman; he poses a threat to rational discourse and social order. Kant recoils from not just insanity but revolution and unchecked desire.

    However, for all his efforts to constrain imagination, Kant’s system depends on it. His version of the cogito hinges on the synthetic powers of imagination, even if it fails to acknowledge them completely. For Kant, freedom exists because of the gap that imagination creates: the subject must choose to follow the moral law without certainty.

    Heidegger sees this gap and does not shy away. In Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics, he argues that Kant nearly recognized imagination’s foundational role but held back. For Heidegger, imagination is more than a thinking tool; it is the essence of being, where human finitude meets the question of Being. He redefines Kant’s transcendental faculties as part of the structure of being: imagination unites sensibility and understanding, opening up the horizon of Being. For Heidegger, imagination is no longer dangerous because it might be chaotic. It poses a risk because it reveals the truth of human existence. However, Schlutz warns that Heidegger may fall into the same trap he critiques Kant for: not fully addressing the radical potential of imagination.

    Slavoj Žižek takes up that radical potential. He rejects both Kant’s repression and Heidegger’s metaphysical revival. For Žižek, imagination is not mainly a unifying force; it ruptures the status quo. It enables us to break reality apart and challenge the continuity of the symbolic order, allowing us to consider the impossible. This dives into the heart of subjectivity as radical and sometimes violent freedom. Žižek’s critique shows how both Kant and Heidegger tried to tame imagination either through moral law or metaphysical support. But for Žižek, imagination exposes the split within the subject and its inherent conflict. This isn’t a flaw in philosophy; it rather defines freedom itself.

    Engaging with imagination is not about escaping philosophy. Instead, it reveals its limits and possibilities, and leads us to envision radical alternatives.

    Alexander Schlutz, Mind’s World: Imagination and Subjectivity from Descartes to Romanticism (University of Washington Press, 2009)

  • Irigaray’s elemental works and dialogues with male philosophers

    “SELF(IE) EVIDENCE” by Manuela Matos Monteiro.

    But fire, in fact, what is that? A simple body, an elementary substance, that can be predicated on the basis of certain qualities. And light? The actual transparence of certain bodies that are potentially transparent: water, and many solids. Whereas at the beginning of epistemology, the philosopher was still marveling at such things as fire, and water, now they must be submitted to a rigorous scientific analysis so that their excessive power can be checked. They must be put in their place, within a general theory of being so as to lessen our fascination with them.

    Luce Irigaray, Speculum Of the Other Woman

    In her “elemental works”, which she centers on the four elements (earth, air, fire, water) and also on nature, Irigaray aims to reinterpret, challenge, and form a dialogue with philosophers of Western tradition. In answer to Heidegger’s critique of Western metaphysics as a “forgetting of Being,” Irigaray in The Forgetting of Air in Martin Heidegger, critiques Heidegger’s emphasis on the element of earth as the ground of life and speech, and his oblivion of air in his existential-ontological account. Air is invisible but crucial as it sustains life. This work has been interpreted as a critique of Heidegger whereas Irigaray seeks to expand Heidegger’s philosophy to introduce the feminine, saying that she would like to “celebrate the work of Martin Heidegger. To succeed in this gesture implied not appropriating his thought but respecting it in its difference. To pay homage to Martin Heidegger in his relationship to the earth, to the sky, to the divinities and to the mortals presupposed for me the unveiling and the affirmation of another possible relation to this fourfold.”[1] The forgetting of air in Heidegger’s work symbolizes the exclusion of women in traditional philosophical discourse. Irigaray explores how traditional philosophy has been built on a patriarchal worldview, which prioritizes certain elements and concepts while neglecting others that might be associated with femininity, ephemerality and fluidity.

    In Marine Lover of Nietzsche, Irigaray focuses on the element of water and encounters Nietzsche by addressing him in the second person (she only mentions Nietzsche’s name towards the end of the book). She touches on certain Nietzschean concepts, like eternal recurrence, the Übermensch, self‐overcoming, etc., questioning Nietzsche’s relationship with women. Water is the central element here, as for Irigaray, water is the element Nietzsche fears the most. She forms her narrative upon the complex relationship between the feminine and the fluid, engaging in an amorous dialogue with Nietzsche, and utilizing a lyrical dialogic, intimate prose. With the metaphor of sea, Irigaray alludes to the fluid and dynamic aspects of the feminine. Water represents the flow of life, the unconscious, and the feminine. Marine Lover embraces fluidity, change, and the interconnectedness of life, challenging the rigid, hierarchical structures. Irigaray critiques Nietzsche’s conceptualization of nature and the body, suggesting that he fails to embrace the material, embodied experience of existence often obfuscated or repressed by philosophies that prioritize the mind.

    In Speculum of the Other Woman, presents an analysis of Plato’s epistemological model of the cave. In the well-known allegory, prisoners are confined in a dark cave since birth, and can only see the wall in front of them, and shadowy images cast against the wall. The shadows on the cave wall represent the world of sensory experience and the realm of appearances. The prisoners are watch the shadows on the cave wall as reality; thus, they are deceived by the appearances. When a prisoner goes to the outside world, he is blinded by the sunlight, but then his eyes adjust, and he witnesses the true reality of the physical world around him. The allegory of the cave is about the journey from ignorance to enlightenment, and to the world of real knowledge. The free prisoner can attain knowledge via reason and understanding of the Forms. Thus, “Plato’s allegory underscores the fundamental difference between knowledge (episteme) and opinion (doxa). Knowledge, in Plato’s view, is not derived from sensory perceptions alone, but from rational insight and understanding of the unchanging and eternal realm of Forms. Forms are the perfect, eternal, and universal ideals that serve as the foundation of true knowledge. In contrast, opinions are based on the imperfect and changing world of sensory appearances.”[2] It can be claimed that Plato’s epistemological model reveals the necessity of it constraining sensory perception as well as the deceptive nature of opinions formed based on appearances.

    Irigaray, in “Plato’s Hystera” (as apparent in the title) uses the word “hystera” (uterus) instead of “cave”, presenting an “allegory in an allegory”[3]hystera is fundamental as it is the ground: “For if the cave is made in the image of the world, the world is equally made in the image of the cave. In cave or “world” all is but the image of an image. For this cave is always already an attempt to re-present another cave, the hystera, the mold which silently dictates all replicas, all possible forms, all possible relation of forms and between forms, of any replica.”[4]

    For Plato, categories of Being, Forms, reality, truth as well as wisdom remain outside the cave which implicates the natural-maternal-feminine framework. This view belongs to the phallogocentric structure that views the masculine as law, order, logic, structure, truth, reason, etc. Irigaray via her “allegory in an allegory” points at the “absence of women, the exclusion of the feminine, from the philosophical tradition not as something immediately or intentional, but rather an always-already presupposed, and remaining unquestioned, element that exists prior to, and is simply carried over into philosophical discourse.”[5] Irigaray writes,

    Infinite projection – (the) Idea (of) Being (of the) Father – of the mystery of conception and the hystery where it is (re)produced. Blindness with regard to the original one who must be banished by fixing the eyes on pure light, to the point of not seeing (nothing) anymore – the show, the hole of nothing is back again – to the point at which the power of a mere bodily membrane is exceeded, and the gaze of the soul is rediscovered. A-lētheia.[6]

    The seeker of knowledge must emerge from the dark materiality of the cave/hystera and simultaneously reject, conceal, repress it in order to attain the light of wisdom.

    He must free himself from the materiality of the womb.

    In Irigaray’s analysis, the founding masculine-feminine hierarchical imagery is demonstrated and emphasized. As such, masculine images appear as awakening, knowledge, etc., whereas feminine images appear as darkness, obscurity, lack.[7] The cave essentially is about

    the epistemology of sight, which as per the psychoanalytic contingencies of corporeality is a phallic program [scopic regime], is over-validated as the certainty of knowledge-acquisition [a story of distance between the knowing subject and the known object is built upon this scientism, while political programs like the panopticon in colonial/criminological surveillance and cultural propensities such as scopophilia in cinema have been nourished by its ideological dependability] but the disseminated, plural and intimate epistemology of touch which is a feminine sense is excluded from reliability and responsibility of knowledge-making.[8]

    Thus, Irigaray focuses on how subject of knowledge in Plato’s allegory essentially attempts to transcend nature and material world to engage with solid and fixed truths (conveyed via masculine imagery) in order to attain true knowledge. The masculine subject must escape from the cave of ignorance and attain the sunlight of wisdom by repressing the feminine.


    [1] Quoted in Christina Grammatikopoulou, “Remembering the Air: Luce Irigaray’s Ontology of Breath,” https://interartive.org/2014/05/irigaray-air

    [2] “Epistemology and the Allegory of the Cave,” 2023, https://licentiapoetica.com/epistemology-and-the-allegory-of-the-cave-887dea02dbe4

    [3] Seraphina M. Karlyn, “Irigaray: ‘Plato’s Hystera,’ from Speculum of the Other Woman,” https://www.academia.edu/15334854/Irigaray_Plato_s_Hystera_from_Speculum_of_the_Other_Woman

    [3] Irigaray, Speculum of the Other Woman, trans. Gillian Gill, Cornell University Press, 1985, 315.

    [4] Ibid., 246.

    [5] Karlyn, “Irigaray: ‘Plato’s Hystera,’ from Speculum of the Other Woman.”

    [6] Irigaray, Speculum, 315.

    [7] Saunak Samajdar, Intimacy, Hospitalityn and Jouissance: A ‘Feminine’ Knowing of Difference, Michigan Feminist Studies, vol. 20, Issue title: Knowledge, Fall 2006-Spring 2007, http://hdl.handle.net/2027/spo.ark5583.0020.004.

    [8] Ibid.


“In me everything is already flowing, and you flow along too if you only stop minding such unaccustomed motion, and its song. Learn to swim, as once you danced on dry land, for the thaw is much nearer at hand than you think. And what ice could resist your sun? And, before it disappears, perhaps chance will have the ice enflame you, dissolving your hardness, melting your gold.

So remember the liquid ground. And taste the saliva in your mouth also—notice her familiar presence during your silence, how she is forgotten when you speak. Or again: how you stop speaking when you drink. And how necessary all of that is for you! These fluids softly mark the time. And there is no need to knock, just listen to hear the music. With very small ears.”

Luce Irigaray, Marine Lover of Friedrich Nietzsche