One of the UK’s foremost living moral philosophers, Mary Midgley recounts her remarkable story in this elegiac and moving account of friendships found and lost, bitter philosophical battles and of a profound love of teaching. In spite of her many books and public profile, little is known about Mary’s life. Part of a famous generation of women philosophers that includes Elizabeth Anscombe, Philippa Foot, Mary Warnock and Iris Murdoch, Midgley tells us in vivid and humorous fashion how they cut a swathe through the arid landscape of 1950s British Philosophy, writing and arguing about the grand themes of character, beauty and the meaning of rudeness. The mother of three children, her journey is one of a woman who during the 1950s and 1960s was fighting to combine a professional career with raising a family. In startling contrast to many of the academic stars of her generation, we learn that Midgley nearly became a novelist and started writing philosophy only when in her fifties, suggesting that Minerva’s owl really does fly at dusk. Charting the highs and lows of philosophy and academia in Britain, this publication sheds light on Mary’s close friends, her moral philosophy and her meetings with major philosophers, including Wittgenstein and Isaiah Berlin.
Mary Beatrice Midgley (née Scrutton; 13 September 1919 – 10 October 2018[1]) was a British philosopher. She was a Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at Newcastle University and was known for her work on science, ethics and animal rights. She wrote her first book, Beast And Man (1978), when she was in her fifties. She has since written over 15 other books, including Animals and Why They Matter (1983), Wickedness (1984), The Ethical Primate (1994), Evolution as a Religion (1985), and Science as Salvation (1992). She has been awarded honorary doctorates by Durham and Newcastle universities. Her autobiography, The Owl of Minerva, was published in 2005.
Midgley strongly opposed reductionism and scientism, and any attempts to make science a substitute for the humanities—a role for which it is, she argued, wholly inadequate. She wrote extensively about what philosophers can learn from nature, particularly from animals. A number of her books and articles discussed philosophical ideas appearing in popular science, including those of Richard Dawkins. She also wrote in favour of a moral interpretation of the Gaia hypothesis. The Guardian described her as a fiercely combative philosopher and the UK's "foremost scourge of 'scientific pretension.'"
You can take your Will Macaskills, your Peter Singers and your Daniel Dennetts. Mary talks more sense than them all combined. Granted they largely talk about different things but the point remains, they don't make them like they used to. By 'used to' I mean during a 3-5 year period which Mary Midgley, Phillippa Foot, Iris Murdoch and Elizabeth Anscombe were all at Oxford, doing bits.
This memoir is intelligent, thought provoking and even more surprisingly, funny (only surprising because I didn't realise people who were born before 1950 could be funny).
Would recommend to anyone who wants to know what a real philosopher looks like.
Midgley is a moral philosopher, and her memoir makes fascinating reading. Though Midgley completed her course work for her masters, she never got the actual degree, nor did she begin publishing until she was over fifty-- she was raising a family, but she was also, she says, thinking and crystalizing her thoughts-- she didn't have much to say until she started writing. Very inspirational, and a good lesson in not letting yourself be defined/confined by traditional timelimes. It also functions as a mini-philosophy primer.
This is an autobiography of a philosopher as opposed to a philosophical autobiography like Magee or Russell. Nonetheless very entertaining.
The name is from Hegel, which Midgley takes to mean that Philosophy's impact comes indirectly by changing people's outlook.
Discusses how mothers in Cambridge were shocked to see G E Moore wheeling his children in a pram, apparently, it was not what a man should do. Sadly I heard similar things echoed at a South Asian wedding in 2019!
Iris was her bridesmaid and best of friends, although politically and outlook-wise, they were very different. She was not too bothered by Fraenkel, who Warnock outed as a serial harasser. Midgley quips let's see what the sin moralists would touch next.
In one place, she mentions that philosophers have first isolated men from god, then society, and now from nature. Hence it's isolated and atomistic freedom. I feel this is similar to Eric Fromm's argument in Escape from Freedom—alienation coupled with faith in reason.
The last 50 pages, especially her life in Newcastle, were a bit rushed. Overall an enjoyable book to read. I bought a few more autobiographies, which are mentioned in this book.
This is an essential book for admirers of Mary Midgley. Her story. What could be more fascinating that to know how one of the top British philosophers lived their life in our time.
Midgley’s memoir is a warm, witty delight, both in how she recalls her life and how she cleverly weaves in quite a bit of philosophy. She was an unconventional moral philosopher and sharp critic who, in an interview, expressed how much she enjoyed finding a “wonderfully idiotic doctrine” she could contradict and who chose to write in mostly everyday language for clarity and context. She didn’t write her first book until her late 50s for the most excellent reason that she “needed time to think.” She wanted her ideas to be clear before she went public with them. Midgley was no idler before that first book. After her Oxford days, learning alongside close friends like Iris Murdoch, with an interruption by some wartime work, she raised three kids, read many books and reviewed them for the BBC, taught at university level for many years, wrote some articles for philosophy magazines and, yes, thought about many things.
She skips back and forth in time quite a lot, at one point doing a deep dive into her ancestry, and I did wonder a few times if she was going off track, but it all works. It's great storytelling, quite engaging, a portrait not only of her life, especially her formative years as a child and university student, but a portrait of a time and place. The pages on the second half of her life are much less detailed than the first half, and I did get the sense that she was a little bit tired of writing about herself, but she summarizes her life as a philosophical writer nicely.
In all my years of reading or discussing philosophy, I've noticed that people seem to be drawn to philosophers whose lives have some colorful or outsider aspect, whether it’s Schopenhauer’s poodles or De Beauvoir and Sartre’s love affairs. I understand that draw. But philosophers like Midgley are important, too. That her relatively normal, domestic life is not the stuff of very exciting tales is unimportant (though I think her life stories are very interesting). Midgley understood that philosophy should not obscure, but should illuminate.
Este libro me ha gustado muchísimo. Midgley es muy ingeniosa a la hora de narrar los acontecimientos de su vida y el contexto en el que sucedieron. Lo he leído ya dos veces y me sigue fascinando su retrato del Oxford de los años cuarenta, donde trabó amistad con Philippa Foot, Iris Murdoch y Elizabeth Anscombe, todas ellas grandes filósofas. Muy recomendable para todos aquellos que quieran conocer de cerca el panorama filosófico de la Gran Bretaña del siglo XX, así como introducirse en la vida de esta mujer apasionada por la filosofía. (Esta obra no ha sido traducida al español)
Brief - and unphilosophical - beginning to a review which will be completed later.
The Owl of Minerva flies only at dusk. When I sat down and opened this book for the first time, shortly after the sun had gone down, all the lights in the house failed. I don't ascribe this to Mary Midgeley, but........