My musings on Irvin Yalom’s book “The Spinoza Problem” explore the freedom of thought, body and soul.
Whenever I feel like I need to check my levels of insanity and how they match with reality, I look for a book about psychoanalysis. After all, so my belief, psychoanalytic pieces always look to get to the core of my mental pathways. They may not tell me where to go or what the final destination will be but the foundations of psychoanalysis seek to teach you how to wander your own mind (safely).
With this in mind, my present life has conjured up various books that appeared on my new shelf. A few works from Fromm, particularly Fromm’s interpretations of the works of Marx (which are worth spending some serious thought on), a novel about death sent to me by mistake and a couple of new pieces by Irvin Yalom.
My state of mind calls for the factual yet gentle approach that Yalom takes to therapy, and his essentially good writing style. And this is how “The Spinoza Problem” ended up in my life.
Solely a surrealist problem?
Before I jump headlong into my ideas of Spinoza – and how, once more, a dead man holds a certain sway over me – I want to start with the few hours before I began reading the first page (excluding the Introduction which I read as I crossed the road after I picked up the book).
The clouds hung low and I counted myself rather lucky that I just slipped through the door when it began raining. The warm fairy lights came on and the kettle boiled with warm water for a wash. I was in the mood for the radio, so I switched it on and listened to a gentle voice reading Breton.
Breton? The name sounds terribly familiar. As my thoughts drift in and out of reality, I hear “surrealism” and the “surrealist approach to life”. Ah yes, the surrealist poet Breton! But there is much more than falls into place – ironically, as surrealism always seems to remove us somewhat from the things we are so familiar with. And the voice on the radio seems to have picked up on this truth, too. He almost whispers that the distorted images of Dali and imagery of Breton take us deeper into our subconscious. The place few of us ever willingly enter.
What have Breton and Spinoza in common, other than that both their words have wandered through my head? Perhaps that’s all.
I always had a great interest in surrealism but never (foolishly) considered connecting it to psychology in any way. And I have yet to ask myself Why this link wasn’t ever obvious. Probably because the answer would be far too comfortable for my liking.
What is the Spinoza Problem?
Another question I hadn’t ever thought of, and I didn’t even consider asking it until I made my way through the introduction because mindlessly I thought the book would answer it for me.
Did it? Now that would be an answer too comfortable for the reader. You will simply have to read the book, also to understand the next lines.
Is the Spinoza Problem just about Judaism?
There has been much said and written for thousands of years about the Jewish faith, the Jewish people and anything related to Judaism. Therefore, I won’t add to the background here. What matters for this piece is that many of Spinoza’s core ideas aren’t about religion as we know it today.
Some people probably consider Spinoza having created his own religion, or liking his thoughts to Buddhism and Eastern spiritual communities.
Of course, we cannot entirely discount the link between Spinoza and the faith he grew up with, still, his thoughts on god and nature could be broadly applied to any world religion.
Spinoza and Freedom
I lied. Yalom wasn’t the first time that I heard about Spinoza but it was actually Erich Fromm who mentioned the 17th Century philosopher and rebel in his book about Marx. Just as a side note but the name was there – and that was my hint to find out more about Spinoza and his writings.
This being said it isn’t just the words he put down on paper that make a statement. Spinoza lived what he “preached” (if you excuse my punt here). He couldn’t help but share his revolutionary thoughts within his community, and according to the Jewish people, his sacrilegious words quickly led to excommunication. He left his siblings, his business, his friends and even his home to follow what he sincerely knew for himself to be true. How many people in history and today could do this?
How many of us could give up something that we believe to be our possessions? And this is really the key question.
Spinoza must have known the heavy price he paid for his freedom to speak his mind against all odds. But most of all, he knew that staying silent would have meant a slow, painful death of the mind for him.
But don’t misunderstand this. This wasn’t just a move to liberate what he wanted to say. It was mostly a freedom of thought.
Being part of a community affects us in quiet ways that we are often not aware of. We can’t see anymore what is true to the people around us, and what is true to our own mind. And the only way to distinguish between the two is to change perspective which is only possible by abandoning the community. Giving up what society taught us to be true.
Final Thoughts
Philosophers, and psychoanalysists, surely have more to say about the few ideas I hinted at here. For me personally, as a writer and artist, the concept of “freedom in body equals freedom in thought” is a fascinating idea that so many creatives work with. Why? Because they want to liberate themselves from traditions, from what is “normal”, and hence stride forth to shape a new world.
P.s. It felt appropriate to write the majority of this piece sat in a small village cemetery.