the ramble dump

Today I had a farewell drink at the West Kirby Ring O' Bells with my philosophy teacher and a few other people from our philosophy classes.

Two years ago, I had to decide which subjects I wanted to take on for my A-Levels. English was a definite (although I foolishly took English Language), French and History were picked because they were strong subjects (at least, they were back then), and that left me with one other.

I already had a very vague interest in philosophy. Two years before that I'd chosen to do a Religious Studies GCSE because the kind of deep questions it discussed seemed interesting, although in reality it was a pretty dull, shallow course that only ever offered politically correct textbook questions. (I seem to have a knack for picking nothingness subjects based on interesting syllabus outlines, but fortunately philosophy proved to be different.) I'd also glanced at a few things on the internet during that summer, and a couple of articles on the school website, and although I didn't really understand them, something in their nature piqued my interest. What clinched it, however, was probably its section in the Sixth Form prospectus, in which it said: 'If you have a sense of the strangeness of life then you may well find Philosophy interesting.'

The course itself, as we've done it, has covered moral philosophy, theory of knowledge (epistemology), political philosophy and the texts of Plato, Aristotle and Nietzsche. By virtue of being based on an exam-orientated syllabus like any other subject, there was only so much we could go into any of the above, but the intellectual engagement needed to review them at all properly (i.e. not just throwing around vague R.S.-type questions) requires you to reshape, reorganise and clarify your thinking. However much my parents might accuse philosophy of being a wishy-washy subject (not that they ever tried to persuade me against it), and however broad the questions might get, philosophy requires a precise, analytical approach if you actually want to get anywhere. It's been enough to slowly take apart my brain and at least partially reassemble it. It's dusted off many of my previous assumptions and preconceptions and revealed them to be confused. Before I did philosophy, concepts like democracy and equality, for example, had been unquestionably good things. Now, I question everything.

And it's affected everything. Everything I read, everything I see, everything I do. I find myself trying to determine meaning in all my activities - if not to find importance, then at least to try and explain why I do these things, why I like the things I like, what exactly it is that I get out of them. Inevitably for me, this has encroached on writing and storytelling: the art, the aesthetics, the simple appeal of being emersed in a story, the deeper meaning of the subject in what it is I'm writing, reading or watching.

In many cases I've found that I'm able to connect and find some apparent coherence in the conscious and sometimes subconscious things I do in a way that I hadn't previously considered. These might themselves later prove to be fallacies. Philosophy throws everything up in the air, and in some things it's left me more confused than ever. But at least I know that I'm confused about it and not living my life under some illusion. I can't claim to be completely free of illusion, or enlightened or the fountain of all knowledge after taking philosophy, but it's still had a massive effect on me. I wouldn't have expected that from a school subject.

But then it's not just a school subject. The school subject of 'Philosophy' was just a small window into that whole swirling everything. And I think the fact that I got so much out of it also has a lot to do with the person who taught me. While I've had some very thorough and efficient teachers who will get me through the exams (which to many might be what matters) and who are not without their knowledge and enthusiasm, Mr B has treated the subject as it should be: a genuine appreciation of the subject matter, at the same time enthusing and thoughtful, not just dictating a stream of knowledge bites. While there's a lot more room for open discussion in Philosophy than there is in more straightforward subjects like English Language or History, Mr B could still have limited himself to the syllabus and given us a much more restricted overview, but in forsaking efficiency for occasional discussions of interest that might not be directly relevant (or, it has to be said, are often not relevant at all), he's made it a worthwhile subject, even if these meanderings are only the accidental result of a very philosophical mind. He's been often brutally honest and talked to us, not down to us. He's been a character. I personally really appreciate that.

So we had a lunchtime drink, all ten or so of us crowded around a small table in the beer garden. I had two pints of Guinness like the man I am. It started raining, Mr B had to get back to that pesky thing they call teaching, and the rest of us went home. Philosophy class is definitely something I'll miss.

Labels: i am the ramblemaster, philosophy

# posted by Chris @ 2:56 PM