The First Person Singular
by Adam Robbert
I started reading it today. Lingis is off to a good start out the gates:
See nature setting out by day the intricate designs of alpine flowers, flashing the crystal colors of the 319 species of hummingbirds. See the night lofting the powdery wings of 10,500 species of moths in North America, uncoiling huge flowers in the tropics. See the tiny rainbows flashing briefly on bubbles in the surf and the streaming vermillions and indigos of 25,000 species of coral fish. See how the setting sun emblazons the skies with unnamable colors different every evening, different every minute of every evening.
It is also by chance that the earth has glaciers, sequoias, giraffes, quetzals, chameleons, and orchids.
The sense of being separate and on our own is precarious. We are haunted by the possibility that our sense that we are conducting our lives is illusory. The possibility that our autonomy is abusive and pernicious makes us doubt its justification and validity (pp. 5 – 6).