PREFACE

THE THESIS OF THIS BOOK IS THAT PHILOSOPHY SINCE Plato has not only been a “forgetfulness of Being,” as Martin Heidegger explained in Being and Time, but an expression of Being’s remnants, that is, the remains of Being. If Parmenides, Heidegger, and Lévinas suggested that “to on,” “es gibt Sein,” and “il y a de l’être,” it is because Being is an event, a kind of initial generosity and gift through which philosophy began. As soon as I started my study of philosophy, reading Plato, Augustine, Nietzsche, Dewey, Pareyson, Davidson, and others, I became obsessed and astonished by metaphysics, because it investigates questions that science does not address and answers that which it presupposes. There is a universal and totally determinant attribute to things, which is existence, and to be incessantly astonished, “philomuthos,” by this existence is what has set philosophy, “philosophos,” on the way toward the question of what it is that is, of what it is that constitutes Beingness in opposition to beings, thinking to calculation. Calculation is the domain of ontic sciences such as nuclear physics, which concentrates on forces, reactions, and internal structures of the atomic nuclei. Thinking instead belongs to the domain of ontology, thus of philosophy, which does not concentrate on a being such as an atomic nuclei but in thinking the Being of it, in order to experience how it is that existence manifests itself in the atomic nuclei. In doing so, philosophy does not devalue the substantive world as Cartesian subjectivity, Kantian transcendence, or Nietzschean voluntarism did; on the contrary, it immerses itself in the full “thereness” of things.

There is no scientific investigation without an explicit or implicit ontology. This is the question of ontology, the “question of Being,” the Seinsfrage, which since Anaximander, Heraclitus, and Parmenides has determined the nature of philosophy and men. This question is also the question as to the purpose, the sense, and the meaning of human life, values, and principles. It is our practical moral life that makes man ask this question. Although this problem has been forgotten for several centuries, it returned to life thanks to Heidegger’s efforts at the beginning of the twentieth century. This problem was first characterized as “ontology” by Christian Wolf, after the publication of his Ontology in 1729, and, ever since, “ontology” has been a synonym for “metaphysics.” When I was taught that this was and will always be the most genuine and central problem of philosophy, what I found most fascinating is not that most philosophers have investigated it but that all the other problems presuppose it, because it remains. That is, all those philosophers and philosophies that have not explicitly investigated this problem presuppose an understanding and remnant of Being that also determines and conditions their work. Each epoch in the history of philosophy can be alluded to in the name that a major philosopher of the period has given to the Being of entities in his research: “idea” in Plato, “energeia” in Aristotle, “act” in Aquinas, “representedness” in Descartes, “objectivity” in Kant, “absolute Spirit” in Hegel, “élan vital” in Bergson, “will to power” in Nietzsche, “conversation” in Gadamer, “trace” in Derrida, and so on. Since the question of Being implies a continuity without which there is not anything, and since as philosophers we are part of the linguistic tradition that has always investigated this question, we are obliged to pursue it.

All this induced me to take seriously Heidegger’s philosophy and, most of all, the consequences of the “destruction of Being as presence” or the “overcoming of metaphysics” that he put forward both to retrieve Being from its forgetfulness and because this Being did not apply to the particular human mode of being. My teacher, either to calm or motivate my worries concerning this obsession, used to say that “to remain a philosopher means to be obsessed around the verb Being (concerning what is and what is not) because it invites you not to remain satisfied with one’s own identity and to seek the entire horizon of Being—in other words, to dialogue.” Although he kept assuring me I was not alone in this obsession of philosophers with the problem of Being, he showed me how few have analyzed the consequences of this deconstruction put forward for the first time by Heidegger in terms of remnants. I decided to investigate this problem not for sociological reasons or to put forward an effective history, a Wirkungsgeschichte of Being, but because the same philosophers who took seriously the consequences of this deconstruction were also observing, as Heidegger put it, that “there is nothing to Being as such” (having been deconstructed), that “Being is the most worn-out” (having been interpreted), and that Being “has left a trace” (being generational). Now, this weak or limited status of Being is not a negative aspect of it, as if its days have ended, but, on the contrary, another beginning: retrieving and destroying Being as presence has opened the way to overcome metaphysics through its remains, which are unpresentable.

Metaphysics began with Plato and ended with Nietzsche because, thanks to this destruction, we have overcome the interpretation of Being as an object that caused conceptual limitations through such polarities as presence versus absence, Being versus nothingness, truth versus error, mind versus matter, soul versus body, or man versus woman. But metaphysics cannot be abandoned, because it constitutes our understanding of Being, which we cannot escape, since it is part of what has shaped our tradition, humanity, and destiny. This is why contemporary philosophers speak of our epoch as “postmetaphysical”: we are now finally aware that metaphysics is not something rigid and determining, because we have the ability to take it up consciously as our own, to shape what we see it to have been, where it will take us in the future, and even what it will become.

The ambitious “way” of this book is to outline the remains of Being after its destruction from within. This will not only indicate the remains of Being but also how to generate more Being—because the ontologies, systems, and philosophies of the past and present are only the remains of Being, which are given to us through interpretations that, at the same time, generate being. By “way” I do not only mean a path but also an attitude, a concern, and, above all, a manner of thinking. Searching for the remains of Being will build our way. Just as all ways are ways of thinking, this way is ambitious, because it springs from the primordial and principal astonishment of philosophy. These remains can be found more palpably in the work of those philosophers who have taken seriously this destruction: Reiner Schürmann, Jacques Derrida, Jean-Luc Nancy, Hans-Georg Gadamer, Ernst Tugendhat, and Gianni Vattimo. I should immediately warn that my interpretation of these philosophers, including and most of all Heidegger, does not pretend to be a faithful interpretation of their thought—nor a substitution for reading their original texts—but rather a strict investigation of the remains of Being in their work. If the Being of being addresses itself to philosophers to the extent that they state what being is, then my interpretation cannot be a description of their opinions but must be an interpretation of Being through them.

The profound intellectual debt every disciple has toward his master is always best honored not by facile imitation or repetition but by developing one’s own thought. This is only possible if the master allows such a development to take place. Distinguished intellectual educators such as George Steiner and Noam Chomsky demonstrated this. Steiner rightly explains in his Lessons of the Masters that the master “induces visions which are, in effect, re-visions and déjà vu,” because the relation between traditio, “what has been handed down,” and what the Greeks called paradidomena, “that which is being handed down now,” is never transparent or accidental but instead a call that the masters, as disciples, also responded to in the past. And Noam Chomsky in Chomsky on Democracy and Education says that “the best teacher would be the one who allows students to find their way through complex material as you lay out the terrain.” If the teacher’s capacity should be deuten, which in German means “to point to” and which is inseparable from bedeuten, “to mean,” then the disciple’s insights must consist in responding to this call, to this indication.

My efforts in this book are a response to him whom I consider to be my teacher, Professor Gianni Vattimo, and his philosophical indications. Although I am the only author responsible for this research, it would not have been possible without his philosophy and teaching. In no way am I trying to say that I am like the dwarf in John of Salisbury’s example, “sitting on the shoulders of a giant seeing more things because my sight is keener.” On the contrary, what I see is not clearer or sharper; rather, as Richard Rorty genially explained, I just pursue the conversation in order to respond to an appeal. Although in this book I move beyond Vattimo’s investigations, the spirit and nature of my thought is completely immersed in his “weak thought”—at least, that is my hope . . .