The Thing
Man today has lost the sense of distance. We can reach places that once took weeks or months to venture can now be achieved by a short, eight-hour, overnight flight. Distant, historical sites can now be perceived through the lenses of the camera and shown on film as if it exists on today’s streets. Man puts long distances behind him in the shortest range. But this abolition of distance does not result in bringing a sense of nearness; nearness can’t be reduced to a mere sense of shortness of distance. Short distance isn’t nearness and long distance isn’t remoteness. Heidegger says that everything is lumped into a distance-less state. He explains his theory by using the atomic bomb as an example. We can stare and wait for the what the bomb will come with it. The viewer doesn’t see the atom bomb and its explosion as the final emission of what has long taken place. The thought of one hydrogen bomb that has the ability to wipe out life on earth. This terrifying feeling places everything outside of nature. By revealing and hiding itself in a way that everything is faced with presence, all conquest of distances the nearness of things remain absent. Nearness cannot be encountered directly, we succeed in reaching a sense of nearness by reaching it rather than attending to what is near. What is near to us is considered as things. Heidegger quotes, “But what is a thing? Man has so far given no more thought to the thing as a thing than he has to nearness” (Heidegger 166).
Heidegger uses a jug as an example. A jug is a thing. But what is a jug? We could say that a jug is considered as a vessel, a thing that holds something else within it. It could be seen as a container; it has sides and a base and is held with a handle. It is a self-supporting being that is independent from the definition of an object. It is an object when placed before us. The “thingly” character of the thing does not mean it is represented as an object. The jug stands as a vessel only because it was brought to a stand. The jug is unquestionably a vessel. It is a self-supporting thing made by a potter from earthen material; a material specifically chosen for that jug. Seeing the jug as a made vessel encourages us to see it as a thing rather than an object. It isn’t an object that is to be seen as an act of representation. As the potter makes the jug, he isn’t creating a simple form with a handle out of clay, he is creating a void. The vessel’s thingness is does not lie at all in the material, but instead the jug relies in the void the jug holds. “And yet, is the jug really empty?” (Heidegger 169).
Science assures us that the void is filled with air and whatever else is made up in the air’s mixture. As soon as we study the jug scientifically rather than its reality, the facts surrounding the jug change. Science encounters only what kind of representation has admitted beforehand as an object possible for science. Science causes an annihilation of the thing. The thingness of the thing is remained concealed when we see things through scientific knowledge. The nature of the thing is never coming to light, it never gets a hearing. Heidegger quotes, “But if things ever had already shown themselves qua things in their thingness, then the things thingness would have become manifest and would have laid claim to thought” (Heidegger 170). In truth, the thing that remains proscribed is annihilated. Heidegger questions, “To what is the nonappearance of the thing as thing due?” (Heidegger 171). Has man neglected the thing as a thing to himself? Man can only only neglect what has already been assigned to him. To understand “nearness,” you must examine the thing close up, not from a distance.
The term thing is understood through the Old High German word thing. The German definition means a gathering, a gathering to deliberate on a matter of discussion, a contested matter. Another German word Heidegger points out is dinc (ding?). The terms thing and dinc are names for an affair or matter of pertinence. The Romans had a term for discourse, res. The Greek’s term for speaking about something or to deliberate on it, is called erio. Res Publica means to be known by everyone and greatly concerns everybody, hence the term Publica. The Roman word Res designates that which concerns somebody, an affair. The Roman term causa, which refers to case; something that comes to pass and becomes due. When molding the two terms res and causa together, the modern language of today came to mean cause. Causa does not directly translate as cause, this is only a modern interpretation. The Old German words of dinc or thing is referred to as a gathering. It deals with case and matter, is translated properly by the Roman term of res. The French say la chose while English speakers say, “the thing.” Historically, the terms res, Ding, causa, cosa, chose, and thing, are seen together but each have very specific meanings. The word thing was used when referring to god. God is the “highest and uppermost thing;” the soul is considered a “great thing.” The term thing varies in interpretation. But the jug Heidegger mentioned earlier cannot align with the Roman res nor the modern term of object. The jug is a thing and comes into its own, appropriately manifests and determines itself.
Today everything can be considered as equally near and equally far; it is distanceless. Then what is nearness? Heidegger talks about examining the jug up close, exposing the nature of nearness. Heidegger quotes, “The thing things. In thinging, it stays earth and sky, divinities and mortals” (Heidegger177). These four terms, earth, sky, divinities, and mortals bring remoteness near one another. God is seen as a thing, the soul is seen as a thing, and the jug is seen as a thing. This nearness preserves farness. “Near” can’t be seen as a container, we can’t look at the container, “nearness,” from a distance. It simply doesn’t work. “Nearness is at work in bringing near, as the thinging of the thing” (Heidegger 178). When Heidegger mentioned divinities, the other three terms are considered (Earth, sky, mortals) because of their open nature. The mortals are human beings. We use the term mortal because only humans are capable of death; the animal perishes. Heidegger mentions that death is a shrine of nothing, it is something that never exists, but nevertheless has a presence. This presence of death is then traced to “Being.” Enshrining this nothingness can be seen as a shelter for being. Mortals exist in this shelter of being, they are presencing relation to being as being. Earth, sky, divinities, and mortals belong together. They mirror each other, but not in a way of likeness. They have the ability to these four free on their own, but also can be brought together. This mirror-play between these four can be seen as the world. The world presences by worlding. Heidegger quotes, “That means: the world’s worlding cannot be explained by anything else nor can it be fathomed through anything else” (Heidegger 180).
In order of a thing to be a thing, they must ring the world’s mirror-play; a ringing that brings forth the Earth and heaven, divinities and mortals. A world worlds as a world. Things range from jugs to trees, ponds to benches. They are modest in number when compared to the countless objects that are measureless to the mass of human beings. Humans attain the world as world only through dwelling; only what conjoins itself out of the world becomes a thing.
Language
Humans speak. We speak even when we don’t mutter a word. Through our dreams, actions, and metaphors, we speak through a variety of mediums because to us, speaking comes naturally. We have language by nature. Language is what distinguishes the human from the animal or from the plant. In all cases, language belongs to the closest neighborhood of man’s being. Language is unavoidable and can be pointed out everywhere. Language itself is language. Heidegger states, “’In what way does language occur as language?’ We answer: language speaks” (Heidegger 190). We must leave the speaking to language; it is simply impossible to ground language. It is almost as if language can only be understood through speech. Seeing language as anything else could possibly underscore what language is.
What does it mean to speak? Speech could simply be reduced to the organs within the body that allows the body to produce spoken words. Organs that both produce and understand speech. These audible feelings can be place in the categories. The first is seeing speech as expression. Speech is seen as utterance, possibly the most obvious characterization of speech. The second category is to see speech as an activity. We cannot say that “language speaks,” this would assume that language brings man about. Humans created language, not the other way around. The third characterization of speech is to see it as a presentation and a representation of the real and the unreal. A figure of speech, such as a metaphor, connects language to an object or action that does not have a literal application, thus bridging the real and the unreal. A connection between the These three characterizations have vast interpretations between humans. But when we understand language as a form of expression, we give language a comprehensive definition. If language is speech, where do we encounter speech? Speaking does not cease in what is spoken. We often experience what was spoken as the residue of a speaking long past.
Heidegger goes on describing the language of poetry through the poem, A Winter Evening by Georg Trakl. Taking apart each stanza, Heidegger explains the language of the author. We end on the term stillness. “Stillness stills by the carrying out, the bearing and enduring, of world and things in their presence” (Heidegger 207). Motionless always remains. It isn’t limited to suspension or soundlessness. Language takes on the challenge of differentiating the world and things. This is quite obvious in poetry. The tenth stanza of A Winter Evening states: Pain has turned the threshold to stone. The author speaks of both human qualities, a feeling (pain), and inhuman objects (stone). Linguistics take place outside of the speaking of language. The nature of language needs and uses the speaking of mortals. Mortal speech is a calling that names, a bidding that bids thing and world to come. Pure mortal speech is spoken through poems.
The structure of human speech is to be spoken on their own part. Mortal speech is meant to be listened and responded to. Heidegger quotes, “Nevertheless by receiving what it says from the command of the difference, mortal speech has already, in its own way, followed the call” (Heidegger 209). Humans respond to language through multiple senses. Response is a receptive listening and a recognition that makes do acknowledgement. Mortals respond to speech through receiving and replying. Every authentic hearing holds back, a restraint that that reserves itself. But authentic hearing begins before any type of speech begins. We anticipate a command, a time to reply.
Poetically Man Dwells
Dwelling is harassed by housing shortages. We are plagued with our insecurity in gains and success. There is little room left today where dwelling is actually poetic. Poetry is rejected and vaporizes into the unknown or a flight into dreamland. “Poetically man dwells” can be translated as poetry causes dwelling to be dwelling. This dwelling is created through poetic creation and exists as a building. But where does man get this sense of dwelling? Humans crave a sense of dwelling through the telling language. Heidegger argues that man acts as if they are the master of languages. But instead, language is the master of man. As stated in the Language chapter, language is expressive. It is language that speaks; humans speak only when they respond to language by listening and understanding its appeal. Man authentically listens and speaks in the element of poetry. Heidegger quotes, “The more poetic a poet is – the freer his saying – the greater is the purity with which he submits what he says…” (Heidegger 216). Cultivating and caring are considered a kind of building that produces growth outside of one’s self. A poetic dwelling should belong to the realm of fantasy, it should be a place that is above reality. Poetry is bringing man to the earth, making them belong to it, thus bringing him into dwelling.
The nature of dimension is pointed upwards toward the sky and downward to earth. Man spans this natural dimension by measuring himself against the heavenly. Man’s dwelling consists of looking towards the sky, a constantly taking measure of the dimensions. This means the sky belongs just as much as earth. Poetry is considered a form of measuring. Man is constantly measuring himself against their self. Measuring gauges the very nature of man. Heidegger quotes, “For man dwells by spanning the ‘on the earth’ and the ‘beneath the sky.’ This ‘on’ and ‘beneath’ belong together” (Heidegger 223). Humans are always enduring a sense of dimensionality; our existence now and then must be measured out. When we hear measure, we think of numbers and symbols. But the nature of measure is no more quantum than the nature of measuring. The nature of measuring is brought through the poet, comparing the heights of the heavens to sights and appearances. This is categorized as “image.” The nature of images is to have something be seen. Poetic images are imaginings that are not simple fantasies and illusions, but imaginings that are a distinctive sense. The poetic sense of images gather the brightness and sound from the of the heavenly appearances and compares these visuals to the unfamiliar sense of darkness and silence. Heidegger quotes, “The measure taken by poetry yields, imparts itself to what is familiar in the sights of the sky” (Heidegger 226). As stated earlier, measuring takes place in an image; measuring is of the same nature of the sky.
So, is there a measure on earth? The poet would reply, “There is none.” Man dwells on earth and exists insofar as man dwells. In the dwelling of humans, we let earth be as earth. The statement “Man dwells in that he builds” (Heidegger 227), is made clear. Poetry builds up the nature of dwelling, humans are capable to build authentic buildings, such as poets measure for architecture. Do we dwell poetically? Poetry and dwelling do not exclude each other, instead they belong together. If anything, we dwell unpoetically, but only in the essence of poetry. Our unpoetic dwelling fails to take measure. It derives from a curious excess of frantic measuring and calculation. Heidegger states, “The poetic is the basic capacity for human dwelling” (Heidegger 228). Man is capable of poetry at any time but only to the degree of appropriateness. Poetry can either be authentic or inauthentic. When measuring appropriately becomes apparent, man has the ability to create poetry from the very nature of the poetic. With this awareness, the man can then dwell humanly on earth.
Heidegger, M. (1971). Poetry, language, thought. New York, NY: Harper and Row, Publishers Inc.