Whistler’s <Emphasis Type="Italic">Mother</Emphasis>: Devotional Center of Male Melancholic Religion

In previous writings, I have argued that the 3-to-5-year-old boy’s emotional separation from his mother is the key experience in his development of a melancholic orientation to life (Capps, Men, religion, and melancholia: James, Otto, Jung, and Erikson, 1997) and that men’s religious proclivities (based on honor, hope, and humor) reflect this emotional separation (Capps, Male melancholia: Guilt, separation, and repressed rage, 2001). In an earlier article published in Pastoral Psychology (Capps, Leonardo’s Mona Lisa: Iconic center of male melancholic religion, 2004), I argued that Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is the iconic center of the male melancholic religion, that it displaces the Virgin Mother Mary of traditional Christianity in this regard, and that the painting aids in the difficult task of transforming melancholia into the mourning of the lost maternal object. In this article, I argue that James McNeill Whistler’s painting of his mother plays a similar role in male melancholic religion, but with an important variation: I use Ernst Troeltsch’s classic church-sect typology to show that Leonardo’s Mona Lisa is the iconic center of the churchly form of male melancholic religion, while Whistler’s mother is the devotional center of its sectarian form.

The Making of the Reliably Religious Boy

In Men, Religion, and Melancholia: James, Otto, Jung, and Erikson (D. Capps, 1997) and Men and Their Religion: Honor, Hope, and Humor (D. Capps, 2002), I argued that men are no less religious than women, but their religiousness is different from that of women because it has its psychological origins in the emotional separation between a boy and his mother around the ages of three to five. Employing Freud’s “Mourning and Melancholia” (S. Freud, 1917/1963) essay, I suggested that their religiousness is rooted in an ontological state of melancholy (which is different from the psychological state of depression). In Men and Their Religion I identified the religions of honor and of hope as the primary forms of male melancholic religion, and suggested that humor is a third form that may come to one’s assistance when one experiences the limitations of the other two religions. In this article, I focus on my own early adolescent years (age 11–14) and explain how one boy became reliably religious, that is, how he embraced or internalized the religions of honor and of hope. In the companion article, I will explain how these two religions were relativized—and thereby preserved—by the religion of humor.     

Humor and the Rebellious Spirit of the Early Adolescent Boy

In my companion article on the making of the reliably religious boy (D. Capps, 2006c) I presented my argument that, whereas the younger boy of three to five is becoming religious as a result of his emotional separation from his mother, the early adolescent boy (age 11–14) has become reliably religious in that he has developed a religious habit of mind, a habit reflected in his embrace of the religions of honor and hope. I presented myself as a case study in this regard. I noted, however, that there is a third form of religion, that of humor, and that it relativizes—and thereby preserves—the religions of honor and hope. I also noted that religion and spirituality are capable of being differentiated. I suggested that my own spirituality took the form of rebellion and that this spirit of rebellion fueled and was fueled by the religion of humor. Employing Freud’s writings on humor, I explain in this article how this works.     

Mother,Melancholia, and Dreams in Erik H. Erikson’s <Emphasis Type="Italic">Insight and Responsibility</Emphasis>

In an earlier article (Capps, 2007a) on Erik H. Erikson’s earliest writings (1930–1931) I focused on the relationship between the child’s melancholia and conflict with maternal authority, and drew attention to the restorative role of humor. In a subsequent article (Capps, 2007b) on Erikson’s Childhood and Society (1950) I explored the same theme of the relationship of melancholia and the mother, but focused on the restorative role of play. In this article drawing from his Insight and Responsibility (1964) I continue this exploration of the relationship of melancholia and the mother, but focus on the restorative role of dreams. In support of this understanding of dreams, I focus on Erikson’s interpretation of one of Sigmund Freud’s dreams in light of the first two stages of the life cycle, and his view that the dream itself is inherently maternal. Donald Capps is Professor of Pastoral Psychology at Princeton Theological Seminary. His books include Men, Religion, and Melancholia (1997), Freud and Freudians on Religion (2001), and Men and Their Religion: Honor, Hope, and Humor (2002). He has served as editor of Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion and as President of the Society for the Scientific Study of Religion.     

The Psychological Benefits of Humor

In Men and Their Religion: Honor, Hope, and Humor (2002), I proposed that men have two primary ways of being religious—the religion of honor and the religion of hope. I also proposed that because these two religions do not always have their desired outcomes, men have developed a third way of being religious, the religion of humor. In A Time To Laugh (2005) I have expanded on my claim in Men and Their Religion that if men have three religions—honor, hope, and humor—the greatest of these is humor. In the course of doing the necessary research for a book on humor, I acquired and read a few books and a host of articles that explored the psychological benefits of humor. While I did not report on these studies in the book, I believe they are relevant to the assumption that a religion will have psychological benefits for those who embrace it. This article therefore provides a review of empirical studies of the psychological benefits of humor in order to answer the question whether a religion of humor is likely to have psychological benefits and, if so, what these might be.     

The Mother Relationship and Artistic Inhibition in the Lives of Leonardo da Vinci and Erik H. Erikson

In four earlier articles, I focused on the theme of the relationship of melancholia and the mother, and suggested that the melancholic self may experience humor (Capps, 2007a), play (Capps, 2008a), dreams (Capps, 2007c), and art (Capps, 2008b) as restorative resources. I argued that Erik H. Erikson found these resources to be valuable remedies for his own melancholic condition, which had its origins in the fact that he was illegitimate and was raised solely by his mother until he was three years old, when she remarried. In this article, I focus on two themes in Freud’s Leonardo da Vinci and a memory of his childhood (1964): Leonardo’s relationship with his mother in early childhood and his inhibitions as an artist. I relate these two themes to Erikson’s own early childhood and his failure to achieve his goal as an aspiring artist in his early twenties. The article concludes with a discussion of Erikson’s frustrated aspirations to become an artist and his emphasis, in his psychoanalytic work, on children’s play. Donald Capps is Professor of Pastoral Psychology at Princeton Theological Seminary. His books include Men, Religion, and Melancholia (1997), Freud and Freudians on Religion (2001), and Men and Their Religion: Honor, Hope, and Humor     

Mother,Melancholia, and Art in Erik H. Erikson’s <Emphasis Type="Italic">Toys and Reasons</Emphasis>

In three earlier articles (2007a, 2007b, 2007c), I focused on the theme of the relationship of melancholia and the mother, and suggested that the melancholic self may experience humor, play, and dreams as restorative resources. In this article, I want to make a similar case, based on Erik H. Erikson’s Toys and Reasons (1977), for art (in this particular case, a painting of the Annunciation). I have made a similar case for the restorative role of art in articles on Leonard da Vinci’s Mona Lisa (Capps, Pastoral Psychology, 53, 107–137, 2004) and James McNeill Whistler’s painting of his mother (Capps, Pastoral Psychology, 2007d). In the present article, however, I focus on the special biographical circumstances in Erikson’s own development of a melancholy self and the painting he discusses in Toys and Reasons, thereby suggesting that individuals may find a particular work of art especially relevant to their own experience of melancholy. I conclude with Erikson’s testimonial at the memorial service of a colleague and friend who translated her own melancholy into her service to others.

Mother, Melancholia, and Play in Erik H. Erikson’s Childhood and Society

In an earlier article on Erik H. Erikson’s earliest writings (Capps, 2007), I focused on the relationship between the child’s melancholia and conflict with maternal authority, and drew attention to the restorative role of humor. In this article, I discuss two of the three chapters in part three, “The Growth of the Ego,” of Erikson’s first major book, Childhood and Society [Erikson, Childhood and society. New York: W. W. Norton, 1950, Childhood and society (rev. edition). New York: W. W. Norton, 1963]. I explore the same theme of the relationship of melancholia and the mother, but focus on the restorative role of play. I interpret the differences between the two cases in light of Sigmund Freud’s essay, “Mourning and Melancholia” [Freud, Mourning and melancholia. In S. Freud, General psychological theory (pp. 164–179). P. Rieff (ed.). New York: Collier Books. 1963].

A Spirit in Need of Rest: Luther's Melancholia,Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder,and Religiosity

Male melancholia, rooted in early childhood experiences of perceived mother-loss, is intrinsically linked to religiosity. The Protestant Reformer Martin Luther suffered from melancholia that was related to, and exacerbated by, a corresponding obsessive-compulsive disorder. This essay makes a case for Luther's melancholia being grounded in both childhood beatings (at least one of which was carried out by his mother) and his subsequent search for an identity. Luther's melancholia also gave rise to life-long struggles with obsessive-compulsive anxieties. His religion, in which he believed he had discovered both an identity and a means for relief from his inner struggles, actually exacerbated his melancholia. He realized as an older man that religion had indeed become his substitute obsession and that a major part of his self had died. An argument for how Luther's melancholia and obsessive-compulsive disorder could have been alleviated is offered.     

The early Russell on the metaphysics of substance in Leibniz and Bradley

While considerable ink has been spilt over the rejection of idealism by Bertrand Russell and G.E. Moore at the end of the 19th Century, relatively little attention has been directed at Russell’s A Critical Exposition of the Philosophy of Leibniz, a work written in the early stages of Russell’s philosophical struggles with the metaphysics of Bradley, Bosanquet, and others. Though a sustained investigation of that work would be one of considerable scope, here I reconstruct and develop a two-pronged argument from the Philosophy of Leibniz that Russell fancied—as late as 1907—to be the downfall of the traditional category of substance. Here, I suggest, one can begin to see Russell’s own reasons—arguments largely independent of Moore—for the abandonment of idealism. Leibniz, no less than Bradley, adhered to an antiquated variety of logic: what Russell refers to as the subject-predicate doctrine of logic. Uniting this doctrine with a metaphysical principle of independence—that a substance is prior to and distinct from its properties—Russell is able to demonstrate that neither a substance pluralism nor a substance monism can be consistently maintained. As a result, Russell alleges that the metaphysics of both Leibniz and Bradley has been undermined as ultimately incoherent. Russell’s remedy for this incoherence is the postulation of a bundle theory of substance, such that the category of “substance” reduces to the most basic entities—properties.     

Lacking <Emphasis Type="Italic">lack</Emphasis>: a reply to Joldersma

First I would like to thank Clarence Joldersma for his review of our Poststructuralism, Philosophy, Pedagogy (Marshall, 2004-PPP). In particular, I would thank him for his opening sentence: “[t]his book is a response to a lack.” It is the notion of a lack, noted again later in his review, which I wish to take up mainly in this response. Rather than defending or elaborating our particular contributions to PPP—the latter would be a great indignity to my colleagues as I would not write over them—I will take the opportunity to develop the theme of a lack, as I believe that Joldersma has raised a very important issue. But first I will respond briefly to some of Joldersma’s general and opening statements about the book, and my philosophical position in particular.

Shanahan on Symbolization

In his article ‘A New View of Language, Emotion and the Brain,’ Dan Shanahan claims that the post-war Cognitive Turn focused mainly on information processing and that little attention was paid to the dramatic role played by emotion in human cognition. One key argument in his defence of a more comprehensive view of human cognition rests upon the idea that the process of symbolization—a unique capacity only developed by humans—combines, right from the start, information processing and feelings. The author argues that any theory ignoring this fact would miss the whole point, just as mainstream cognitive science has done since Noam Chomsky published Syntactic Structures, exactly 50 years ago.

Can’t We All Just be Compatibilists?: A Critical Study of John Martin Fischer’s <Emphasis Type="Italic">My Way</Emphasis>

My aim in this study is not to praise Fischer's fine theory of moral responsibility, but to (try to) bury the “semi” in “semicompatibilism”. I think Fischer gives the Consequence Argument (CA) too much credit, and gives himself too little credit. In his book, The Metaphysics of Free Will, Fischer gave the CA as good a statement as it will ever get, and put his finger on what is wrong with it. Then he declared stalemate rather than victory. In my view, Fischer’s view amounts to sophisticated compatibilism. It would be nice to be able to call it by its right name. In The Metaphysics of Free Will, Fischer develops his own version of Consequence Argument, which turns on two principles, one of which is the fixity of the past. FP: For any action Y, agent S and time t, if it is true that is S were to do Y at t, some fact about that past relative to t would not have been a fact, then S cannot at t do Y at t. I argue that the equipment needed to reject FP (and thereby defend the most plausible version of compatibilism) is needed to deal with the problem of fatalism. In addition, I argue that the rejection of FP is compatible with Fischer’s approach to Frankfurt cases and with his account of transfer principles.     

The Finite-Dimensional Freeman Thesis

I suggest a modification—and mathematization—of Freeman’s thesis on the relations among “perception”, “the finite brain”, and “the world”, based on my recent proposal that the theory of finite topological spaces is both an adequate and a natural mathematical foundation for human psychology.

A puzzle about visualization

Visual imagination (or visualization) is peculiar in being both free, in that what we imagine is up to us, and useful to a wide variety of practical reasoning tasks. How can we rely upon our visualizations in practical reasoning if what we imagine is subject to our whims? The key to answering this puzzle, I argue, is to provide an account of what constrains the sequence in which the representations featured in visualization unfold—an account that is consistent with its freedom. Three different proposals are outlined, building on theories that link visualization to sensorimotor predictive mechanisms (e.g., “efference copies,” “forward models”). Each sees visualization as a kind of reasoning, where its freedom consists in our ability to choose the topic of the reasoning. Of the three options, I argue that the approach many will find most attractive—that visualization is a kind of “off-line” perception, and is therefore in some sense misrepresentational—should be rejected. The two remaining proposals both conceive of visualization as a form of sensorimotor reasoning that is constitutive of one’s commitments concerning the way certain kinds of visuomotor scenarios unfold. According to the first, these commitments impinge on one’s web of belief from without, in the manner of normal perceptual experience; according to the second, these commitments just are one’s (occurrent) beliefs about such generalizations. I conclude that, despite being initially counterintuitive, the view of visualization as a kind of occurrent belief is the most promising.     

Leonardo's Mona Lisa: Iconic Center of Male Melancholic Religion

In previous writings, I have argued that a three-to-five-year-old boy's emotional separation from his mother is the key experience in his development of a melancholic orientation to life, and that men's religious proclivities (based on honor, hope, and humor) reflect this emotional separation. In the present essay, I argue that Leonardo da Vinci's {Mona Lisa} is the iconic center of the religion of male melancholia, and thus displaces the Virgin Mary of traditional Christianity in this regard. I provide evidence in support of this argument by focusing on Walter Pater's essay on Leonardo da Vinci, and interpreting Vincent Peruggia's theft, Hugo Villegas's stoning, and Marcel Duchamp and others' humorous assaults on the dignity of Mona Lisa as expressions of male melancholia. I conclude that the painting aids in the difficult task of transforming melancholia into mourning.     

A Religious Experience: A Psychological Interpretation of Kevin Kelly’s Conversion to Christianity

This paper, presented at the Group for New Directions in Pastoral Theology meeting in October 2012, uses the work of Sigmund Freud and Donald Capps to interpret a religious experience. The religious experience—a narrative about being born again—is recounted from the first story on the first episode of the radio program This American Life, which focuses on the religious conversion of Kevin Kelly, founder of Wired magazine. Using Freud’s “A Religious Experience” as a model for interpretation, I employ psychoanalytic ideas (such as the castration complex) to provide an initial reading of the experience, and I then use Capps’s work on male melancholia and on life cycle theory to further the interpretation. I argue that this young man’s religious experience is reflective of what Capps calls “the religion of honor” and “the religion of hope”; that the timing of his religious experience can be understood by means of life cycle theory; and that, theologically speaking, his experience can be understood using the language of the spirit and the soul.     

Monads and Mathematics: G?del and Husserl

In 1928 Edmund Husserl wrote that “The ideal of the future is essentially that of phenomenologically based (“philosophical”) sciences, in unitary relation to an absolute theory of monads” (“Phenomenology”, Encyclopedia Britannica draft) There are references to phenomenological monadology in various writings of Husserl. Kurt G?del began to study Husserl’s work in 1959. On the basis of his later discussions with G?del, Hao Wang tells us that “G?del’s own main aim in philosophy was to develop metaphysics—specifically, something like the monadology of Leibniz transformed into exact theory—with the help of phenomenology.” (A Logical Journey: From G?del to Philosophy, p. 166) In the Cartesian Meditations and other works Husserl identifies ‘monads’ (in his sense) with ‘transcendental egos in their full concreteness’. In this paper I explore some prospects for a G?delian monadology that result from this identification, with reference to texts of G?del and to aspects of Leibniz’s original monadology.     

Sublimation and Symbolization: The Case of Dental Anxiety and the Symbolic Meaning of Teeth

In a previous article (Capps and Carlin 2009) we discussed Freud’s visit to the United States in 1909 and the occasion it afforded for James Putnam to meet him and become an advocate of psychoanalysis. We focused on their subsequent correspondence on the concept of sublimation and argued that this correspondence reflected the fact that friendship may be a form of sublimation. In this article we focus on Isador H. Coriat, an advocate of psychoanalysis from the same time period (1910s). We show that his early psychoanalytic writings (Coriat 1917, 1920) not only support our earlier argument but also make a strong case for the role of symbolization in the process of sublimation. We also note his emphasis on the potential role of living religion in the sublimation process. We then discuss his later article on dental anxiety (Coriat 1946) and writings by other psychoanalytic authors to make the case that the patient’s conscious understanding of the meaning of the symbols—in this case, teeth-related symbols—is essential, for otherwise the energies invested in maintaining the repression will be unavailable to the sublimation process. This leads to a consideration of the role that living religion may play in the sublimation of teeth-related anxieties. We conclude that humor may also serve as a proxy for religion in this regard.     

The typology of the converso in Isaac Abravanel’s biblical exegesis

Isaac Abravanel commented on conversos in the course of his writings. There is an uncanny resemblance between what he writes and documents produced by the Inquisition that present conversos as at least ambivalent about their new religion and sometimes even ironic in their expressions. While reserving judgment about the verisimilitude of the Inquisitional text, it is clear that this picture of ambivalence suited Abravanel—nor was he alone in adopting it—who wished to view conversos as integral to the Jewish collective and its fate. They would return to Judaism to fulfill their role in the history of redemption in the times of the Messiah.