Maritain’s Introduction to Philosophy cites a passage from Goethe’s Farbenlehre (1810) which may have been the source of Coleridge’s dictum1 (quoted in McLuhan’s 1934 Master’s thesis) that “all men (…) are born either Platonists or Aristotelians”:
Goethe, repeating the theme of Raphael’s wonderful ‘School of Athens’, in which Plato is depicted as an inspired old man, his face turned heavenward, Aristotle as a man in the full vigour of youth pointing triumphantly to the earth and its realities, has drawn in his Theory of Colours (…) a striking comparison between Plato and Aristotle. “Plato”, he says, “seems to behave as a spirit descended from heaven, who has chosen to dwell a space on earth. He hardly attempts to know this world. He has already formed an idea of it, and his chief desire is to communicate to mankind, which stands in such need of them, the truths which he has brought with him and delights to impart. If he penetrates to the depth of things, it is to fill them with his own soul, not to analyse them. Without intermission and with the burning ardour of his spirit, he aspires to rise and regain the heavenly abode from which he came down. The aim of all his discourse is to awaken in his hearers the notion of a single eternal being, of the good, of truth, of beauty. His method and words seem to melt, to dissolve into vapour, whatever scientific facts he has managed to borrow from the earth. Aristotle’s attitude towards the world is, on the other hand, entirely human. He behaves like an architect in charge of a building. Since he is on earth, on earth he must work and build. He makes certain of the nature of the ground, but only to the depth of his foundations. Whatever lies beyond to the centre of the earth does not concern him. He gives his edifice an ample foundation, seeks his materials in every direction, sorts them, and builds gradually. He therefore rises like a regular pyramid, whereas Plato ascends rapidly heavenward like an obelisk or a sharp tongue of flame. Thus have these two men, representing qualities equally precious and rarely found together,2 divided mankind, so to speak, between them.” (Maritain, Introduction, 91-92,n1)
McLuhan was always a man of the senses, especially touch and smell, who never tired of depreciating deodorants. He identified firmly with the Aristotle depicted here by Goethe and seconded by Maritain. But he would soon come to distrust all heaven and earth oppositions and begin a lifelong process of learning from both Plato and Aristotle aside from such hopeless dualisms.
- Coleridge was notorious for his borrowings from the Germans, especially Schelling. ↩
- In regard to such “qualities (…) rarely found together”, McLuhan would come to a more nuanced position which disagreed with Goethe, Coleridge and Maritain in one way and agreed with them in another. He disagreed with them in arguing that all experience whatsoever is structured by some heaven and earth ratio. So little are they “rarely found together” that there is no experience at all lacking such a ratio and, therefore, no experience at all lacking some medium, or ‘resonating interval’, or ‘gap where the action is’, giving varying structure to the numerator/denominator poles of that ratio: “the medium is the message”. What is rare, however, and here he agreed with them, is consciousness of this fundamental fact: “qualities (…) rarely found together” in conscious awareness and theory. McLuhan’s contention was that earth and heaven, manifestation and essence, figure and ground, exactly as always “found together in all experience”, would establish a “new science” once consciously focused and investigated. And part of this “new science”, its prehistory so to say, would be the recovery of all those anonymous (in myth) and known thinkers (especially, for McLuhan, Plato, Aristotle and Thomas) who saw the point but proved unable to communicate it — at least to our benighted age. ↩