Movement Versus Activity Heidegger S 1922 23 Seminar On Aristotle S Ontology Of Life.pdf

British Journal for the History of Philosophy

ISSN: 0960-8788 (Print) 1469-3526 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rbjh20

Movement versus activity: Heidegger’s 1922/23 seminar on Aristotle’s ontology of life Francisco J. Gonzalez To cite this article: Francisco J. Gonzalez (2018): Movement versus activity: Heidegger’s 1922/23 seminar on Aristotle’s ontology of life, British Journal for the History of Philosophy, DOI: 10.1080/09608788.2018.1524369 To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/09608788.2018.1524369

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BRITISH JOURNAL FOR THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY https://doi.org/10.1080/09608788.2018.1524369

ARTICLE

Movement versus activity: Heidegger’s 1922/23 seminar on Aristotle’s ontology of life Francisco J. Gonzalez Department of Philosophy, University of Ottawa, Ottawa, Canada ABSTRACT

The important role played by Aristotle in Martin Heidegger’s path towards Being and Time during the 1920’s is now well documented. Yet an important chapter of this story remains mostly unexplored: Heidegger’s early attempt to develop an ontology of life in dialogue with Aristotle. This is because the early seminars in which Heidegger developed his important and highly original interpretation of Aristotle’s De Anima remain unpublished (apart from one very inadequate transcript): one seminar from the summer of 1921 and one spanning the winter semester of 1922/23 and the summer semester of 1923. In the present paper, I reconstruct Heidegger’s key interpretative moves in the latter seminar on the basis of a detailed handwritten transcript preserved among the papers of his student Helene Weiss held at Stanford University. What emerges is a dialogue between Aristotle and Heidegger that enables us better to understand and to question the thought of both philosophers on the phenomenon of life. ARTICLE HISTORY Received 13 April 2018; Revised 10 August 2018; Accepted 24 August 2018 KEYWORDS Aristotle; Heidegger; De Anima; energeia; kinêsis

Thanks to the publication of Heidegger’s courses and seminars from the 1920’s, his intensive engagement with Aristotle’s texts during the period leading up to Being and Time is now well documented. It is not, however, fully documented. It is only once we consider seminars that remain unpublished that we recognize that one of the things that first drew Martin Heidegger to Aristotle during the 1920s was the task of developing an ontology of life. His first seminar dedicated to Aristotle in the summer of 1921 was a seminar on De Anima. Heidegger there focused on the definition of the soul and the general account of perception in Book 2 in an attempt to arrive at an understanding of the kind of movement that charcterizes the being of living things; he did so also in dialogue with the account of being understood more broadly (ousia) in Metaphysics Z and, in Heidegger’s view, understood from the perspective of motion understood broadly CONTACT Francisco J. Gonzalez [email protected] Department of Philosophy, University of Ottawa, Desmarais Building Room 8101, 55 Laurier Avenue East, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada K1N 6N5 © 2018 BSHP

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(becoming).1 Heidegger continued this reading of De Anima in another seminar delivered in the Winter Semester of 1922–23 and extended into the summer of 1923. This seminar, along with that of 1921, provides a reading of De Anima to be found in none of Heidegger’s published Aristotle courses. My focus here is to show how Heidegger further develops in this seminar an account of the being of life as movement, and also to indicate the ways in which Aristotle’s text – and especially the parts not considered by Heidegger – bring such an account into question. Since the 1922–23 seminar not only remains unpublished in any comprehensive and reliable form, like that of 1921, but also appears little known and discussed in the literature, a few words of introduction are necessary. A transcript of this seminar by Oskar Becker was published in 2007 in the Heidegger Jahrbuch 3 (Denker, Figal, Volpi, and Zaborowski, Heidegger und Aristoteles, 23–48). Yet a much longer and more detailed transcript to which several hands evidently contributed is conserved with the papers of Helene Weiss in the Department of Special Collections at Stanford University.2 This transcript, though it parallels that of Becker in terms of topics and main points made, shows the latter to be full of major gaps when it comes to details. Also, while the editors of the Becker transcript express uncertainty about whether the seminar of winter 1922–23 was continued into the summer of 1923, the Weiss transcript not only comfirms this to be the case but also shows that several pages printed by the editors of the Becker transcript as pertaining to the winter seminar (43–48) actually belong to the summer seminar.3 Indeed, the Weiss transcript allows us to date the seminar precisely: 2 November4 to 19 February for the winter semester, 4 May to 5 July for the summer semester. The content of the seminar can be outlined as follows: The first part, after some general introductory comments, focuses on a detailed reading of chapter 2 of Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics. The central topic here is the notion of proairesis (usually rendered ‘choice’) and Heidegger’s reason for this focus and this starting point soon becomes clear: it is in proairesis that he finds the movement that defines the being of human life. This then explains the strange starting-point Heidegger chooses for his reading of De Anima: Book 3, chapter 9, in which Aristotle turns to a discussion of the soul as the principle of movement in place, from which Heidegger attempts to

I discuss this 1921 seminar in ‘Birth of Being and Time’, where I also detail the significant contributions this reading of De Anima makes to the project of Being and Time. M0631, Box 3, Folder 6; used courtesy of the Department of Special Collections, Stanford University Libraries.This handwritten transcript numbers 108 pages in total: 78 for the winter semester and 30 for the summer semester. The Becker transcript in contrast is a mere 25 pages. 3 Kisiel’s extremely brief and therefore hardly adequate summary of the seminar (Genesis, 271–74) follows Becker’s notes and therefore, while he is aware of the seminar’s continuation into the summer (p. 556, n.15), he does not know where the dividing point is between the two semesters. 4 The notes for the first class are not dated, but since the second class is dated November 9 and the classes are weekly, the first class was likely held on November 2. 1 2

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infer an identification of movement with the being of all life as such. Heidegger then turns to Aristotle’s account of sensation followed by his account of thought: the emphasis in Heidegger’s reading is again on sensation and thought as movements. The attempt to interpret Aristotle’s conception of thinking or nous then requires an interpretation of what Aristotle takes to be the object of thought. For this Heidegger turns to the initial chapters of Metaphysics Z in which he specifically seeks what he takes to be the Grunderfahrung guiding Aristotle’s ontology of life: an identification of being with being-produced (Hergestelltsein). With the citation of the first line of the Metaphysics – which for Heidegger expresses both the orexis that is the movement of human life and the conception of being that defines it – the winter semester comes to a close. The summer seminar is dedicted to an interpretation of the so-called dianoetic virtues in Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics. It is the virtue of phronesis that receives here special emphasis because Heidegger takes it to constitute our being as a being-in-the-world-with-others. Given the connection between phronesis and proairesis, a connection Heidegger makes as strong as possible, the summer seminar in effect returns to where the winter seminar began: proairesis as the distinctive movement that defines human life. This quick overview should already make apparent the importance and richness of this seminar. A detailed reading that does it full justice is not possible here. The goal is only to highlight some of its key moves, on the basis of the Weiss transcript, and then give some reasons for questioning these moves. One result will be a better understanding of how Heidegger’s ontology of Dasein in Being and Time grows out of a dialogue with Aristotle’s ontology of life; indeed it is in this seminar, as we will see, that Heidegger’s focus shifts from the phenomenon of life to the phenomenon of human life. Another result will be a case for identifying life in Aristotle with activity rather than with movement. Such an identification will further bring into question Heidegger’s attribution to the Greeks of a conception of being as beingproduced. It is praxis not poiesis that is Aristotle’s guiding experience, against Heidegger’s insistence in the seminar on conflating the two. Heidegger’s discussion of proairesis emphasizes the two moments of its structure that he will also find in the discussion of movement in De Anima: orexis, or desire, and logos, or that form of addressing that lets something be seen in its being. Heidegger’s description of the relation between the two is telling: ‘orexis goes towards the telos, dianoia [thought] towards all that which I must take care of [erledigen] in order to reach my goal, in order to carry out the poiêsis’ (November 16, p. 13).5 We see already here that for Heidegger poiêsis is the guiding perspective: desire and thought 5

I transliterate the Greek untransliteraed in the transcript and where needed provide in square brackets rough English equivalents to the Greek in order to make this material as accessible as possible.

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come together in both moving towards what is to be produced. And Heidegger indeed emphasizes the unity as he appeals to Aristotle’s interchangeable talk of an oretikos nous and an orexis dianoêtikê. That Heidegger wishes to interpret this ‘desiring thought’ or ‘thinking desire’ not ethically but ontologically, is made perfectly clear in the following passage: A thus constituted origin, in the sense of proairesis, is man. He is an archê [principle], and indeed in the sense of proairesis. It is the fundamental phenomenon that characterizes the being of man overall. In no other zôion [living thing] is there such a thing. To be held onto for later!. (November 16, p. 13)

This is to be held onto because, as we will see, the central argument of the seminar is that the caring and unconcealing (which is how Heidegger here will interpret the being-true of both logos and nous) that form the unified structure of proairesis constitute the movement that defines the being of man. Indeed, what we read in the transcript immediately after the cited passage is the following: ‘The being of man is movement [Bewegung], the object [das Worauf] of this movement is the proaireton’ (13). Before proceeding, we should note one important ambiguity of the seminar. Throughout Heidegger claims to be addressing, along with Aristotle, the being of living things as such. Yet, in choosing to read De Anima within a trajectory that begins and ends with Book 6 of the Nicomachean Ethics, Heidegger is clearly placing the emphasis on human life. Thus, we have seen him maintain that the movement of proairesis defines the being of man and is to be found in no other living thing. That he is still trying to keep the phenomenon of life as such in view is evident in his early claim that ‘bees, ants have a certain capability of circumspection [Umsichtsfähigkeit] (phronêsis)’ (first class, p. 4), presumably having in mind not only Aristotle’s characterization of them as social or political animals (see Historia Animalium 488a7– 10) and his description of bees as phronima though unable to learn on account of not hearing (Meta. 980b22–24; also in De partibus animalium bees are said to be phronimôtera than many sanguineous animals, 648a6– 7), but also the claim in the Nicomachean Ethics that some animals are said to be phronima on account of possessing the power of foresight (dunamin pronoêtikên, 1141a26–28) with regard to their own lives. Indeed, what we will see him proceed to say about living as being-in-the-world, with its two moments of concern and disclosedness, will not be denied of animals. As he notes at one point, ‘Therefore, for each living being its world is there. … . Representative in this context is De Animalium motione 700b16ff’ (November 16, pp. 17–18). It is indeed ontologically consitutive for all life that it have an environment it discloses: ‘alêtheuein [unconcealing] is itself something that is in a determinate way ontologically constitutative for the living thing [Lebendes]. The living thing has its environment [Umwelt] that is there for

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it’ (November 23, p. 23) On the other hand, he will also affirm that ‘animals that have only aisthêsis have no praxis’ (November 9, p. 10) and therefore, presumably, no phronêsis. Indeed, when in the lecture course of summer semester 1924, Basic Concepts of Aristotelian Philosophy, Heidegger makes the same point about some animals having a kind of phronêsis, he adds that they do not have phronêsis in a genuine sense (Gesamtausgabe (hereafter GA)18, 235). But the turn towards distinctively human life by way of reading De Anima with the Nicomachean Ethics leaves the phenomenon of life itself opaque, to say the least. Heidegger’s one reference to plants in the seminar is revealing: ‘The fundamental phenomenon [Urphänomen]: the plant grows in all directions [nach allen Seiten]. This is the first thing that is given in the phenomenon. It is here that we find the primitive direction for what ontology will disclose. For us today it is hard to see this primitiveness’ (November 23, p. 22): hard indeed, and no further attempt is made in the seminar. In short, we have here the continuation of what I have shown elsewhere to begin already with the 1921 seminar despite the fact that there we do not yet have the turn from De Anima to the Nicomachean Ethics: an eclipsing of the phenomenon of life as such in favour of an exclusive focus on human life. The following equation we find at one point in the transcript is revealing in this regard: ‘Life = the character of the being of human Dasein’ (December 14, p. 31). The ‘life’ under discussion here is life as an ontological determination of human being: what Heidegger begins to call in this seminar ‘facticity’: ‘Life is the decisive ontological concept. We determine the character of the being of human Dasein terminologically as facticity’ (December 21, p. 37). Another seminar from the summer semester of 19236 turns to Book 1 of the Nicomachean Ethics in order to focus exclusively on the being of human life. In the notes for that seminar we read: ‘The being we are dealing with here is life. We are in search of the character of the living being as human’ (20, my emphasis). The reading of chapter two of Book 6 of the Nicomachean Ethics prepares us for what is perhaps the strangest move in the seminar. When Heidegger proposes turning to De Anima for a better understanding of the being of the soul, one would expect him to start with the definition of the soul at the start of Book II, if not with Aristotle’s critique of rival accounts of the soul in Book I. As noted above, Heidegger did already discuss the first part of Book II (chapters one to five, specifically) in 1921 and could therefore be seen as continuing his reading now from where he left off. (As for Book I, we will see that Heidegger has a reason for ignoring it altogether in both seminars.) But this does not explain why in 1922–23 Heidegger jumps ahead to chapter 9 of Book III where, instead of discussing what characterizes all soul and thus all life as such, Aristotle discusses the specific faculty of movement 6

M0631, Box 3, Folder 6, Helene Weiss papers. Courtesy of the Department of Special Collections, Stanford University Libraries.

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that characterizes only certain animals. We can understand Heidegger’s move here only when we see that he turns this chapter into an account of the ontology of all life as such, though with the tendency just noted to slide without warning into a focus on human life. This is already evident in his interpretation of the question with which the chapter begins (432a19): ‘What is it of the soul’? Aristotle is here asking what part of the soul is the principle of movement. Heidegger, however, interprets or, if one prefers, creatively misinterprets as follows: ‘I.e. what does the kinoun [that which moves] signify for the ontological constitution of a living thing’ (November 23, p. 21). If Aristotle seeks to explain the principle of motion by reference to a part or parts of the soul, Heidegger seeks to explain the being of the soul as such by reference to motion. To say that Heidegger thereby literally inverts the meaning of the text would not be an exaggeration. What ontology of the soul does he then read out of chapter 9, Book III? In this chapter, according to Heidegger, the soul is delimited [ausgegrenzt] according to two ways of beingness [Seinshaftigkeit]. … 1) krinein, to draw out, discern [abheben]. It is indeed a living thing in being opposite something, it has its world, its antikeimenon, it has something in its view [Angesicht]. Something is there for it. This lies in krinein. The living being is such that it is with its world and in it. 2.) It moves itself in the world (kinein tên kata topon kinêsin). In it it can come to rest [seinen Aufenthalt nehmen]. For stasis and êremein [to rest] are also a way of kinêsis, a How of relating oneself to one’s world. These are completely fundamental things that only Aristotle saw and formulated philosophically. Before him these things were never seen. Later they were again lost. (November 23, p. 20)

Two things are to be noted in this passage. First, Heidegger is seen applying the account of motion in this chapter to all living things. Secondly, he can do so because he is interpreting the ‘locomotion’ in question not as a particular kind of motion distinct from others, but rather as the ontological motion of being in the world and relating oneself to one’s world. This latter point is also evident in the way he a little later formulates the question he is bringing to the chapter: ‘How does the beingness of the living thing come into question for the kinêsis kata topon [movement according to place], that we also designate Umgang [dealings, commerce]?’ (November 30, p. 24). As the cited passage already indicates, Heidegger finds in the principle of motion as described by Aristotle the same moments he found in the account of proairesis: the motion that desire (orexis) supposedly is and the discernment that not only guides but is inherent to such motion and that can be attributed to nous and logos. Thus, at one point we read: Γ 9 The substantive problem: how Aristotle grasps oresis and nous as determined for the being of the living thing. Thus, no psychology and no epistemological explication. The distinctions [ … ] ‘theoretical and practical’, nous-orexis are ontological distinctions in an ontology of life. What emerges in them is the beingness

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of the living thing. (November 30, p. 27)

What Heidegger’s reading infers from this chapter is not that orexis and nous are the principles of movement in place, but that they in their unity (proairesis again) are the being of life, that they in themselves are forms of movement, and this latter specifically in the form of production (poiesis), which Heidegger insists on identifying with action (praxis). If therefore we ask what fundamental experience of being underlies such an interpretation of the being of life, the answer is: being = being-produced (Sein = Hergestelltsein). In what follows I consider passages of the transcript that bring out all of these key moments in Heidegger’s reading. One of Heidegger’s key moves already alluded to is to give priority to orexis in the ontology of life and to make nous only a moment of orexis: the sight inherent to desire, as it were. Thus we read: The fundamental character of the zôion is orexis. With its being is its world there, and indeed as something out towards which the zôion exists. nous is only the moment that can be separated out [abhebbare] and that characterizes the existence that is somehow illumined for the zôion. It lies in the very meaning of the orekton [desired object] that, as that towards-which [Worauf], it is at the same time grasped as noêton [object of thought]. Therefore, the one (noêton) does not ground the other (orekton), as Brentano claims when he says that representations serve as limits to all other acts. This misses the original Aristotle. (November 30, p. 25)

Yet Heidegger immediately clarifies that orexis purely by itself cannot be seen as constituting the being of life: it too is only a moment. The key is to grasp orexis and nous in their unity, where this unity is what makes it possible for nous to be eventually abstracted from orexis and given priority over it: a process that, Heidegger grants, already begins with Aristotle. The unity is expressed most radically when we read: ‘nous (in the broad sense of a thinking, noêsis) is orexis’ (November 30, p. 26). But if both orexis and nous are only moments, what are they moments of? The answer is that they are both moments of the more fundamental movement that defines the being of life as such. We read: ‘orexis and nous are already categorial interpretations of kinêsis. This in turn is a determinate formulation [Fassung] of poiein (of praxis in the broader sense.)’ (November 30, p. 26). Two key features of Heidegger’s interpretation are evident here. First, rather than see orexis and nous as principles in the soul that produce a motion distinct from themselves (i.e. motion in place) of which some forms of life are capable, Heidegger sees them as interpretations of the unified movement that constitutes the being of life as such and therefore as themselves motions. Secondly, this movement itself is defined in terms of production (poiesis). This point is elaborated on in the following passage:

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poiêsis is thus the genuine concretion of kinêsis and orexis. As poioun [producing] the zôion lives in care, in being-out-towards-something. Now is it possible for a theôrein [contemplating] to result, an only-seeing (and nothing more), a nothaving-to-worry (any longer). For this everything must be there at its disposal without its explicit caring. Now does it release itself from caring. The world is now no longer there as a prakton, but purely as eidos, and this is accessible only in a looking-at. (November 30, p. 26)

The perspective of production here becomes determinative even for theoretical contemplation, as the latter is interpreted negatively only as a freeing of oneself from the care of productive comportment. The possibility of a positive interpretation of contemplation as an activity fundamentally distinct from the movement of production is ruled out at the very outset by Heidegger’s insistence throughout the course on assimilating praxis to poiesis: as he affirms explicitly at one point, ‘praxis is a determinate poiein’ (November 9, p. 11). The result – and it is a result absolutely indispensable to Heidegger’s reading – is that contemplation is itself identified with a motion. Thus we read: ‘theôrein is also a kinêsis. Despite the modification, therefore, it remains kinêsis. The highest level of sophia is theôrein, and precisely because it is the purest kinêsis’ (November 30, pp. 26–27). Without this claim and without therefore the assimilation of praxis to poiesis on which it depends, Heidegger could not defend what is the fundamental thesis of the seminar and is expressed at one point in the transcript as follows: ‘kinêsis is the fundamental phenomenon because it is the beingness of life’ (November 30, p. 27). If Heidegger next turns to Book II, chapter 12, and the interpretation of aisthêsis, it is to clarify further the moment of truth as unconcealing that the phenomena of logos, krinein, and nous have already shown to be constitutive of the movement of care. Indeed, the fundamental assumption here is that ‘alêtheuein is a way of the psuchê’ (December 21, p. 39). Heidegger therefore turns now to the account of aisthêsis because in his view, as the transcript continues, ‘Aristotle arrives at the concept of alêtheuein originally from aisthêsis, [this being] a phenomenon of the psuchê, and from it does nous too become understandable; therefore, the treatment of aisthêsis is of fundamental significance’ (December 21, p. 39). The emphases in Heidegger’s account of aisthêsis should not surprise given what has already been seen to be the direction of the course. First, aisthêsis is interpreted ontologically as a ‘Gestelltsein in seiner Welt’, ‘being-set in one’s world’; central to this ontological reading is Aristotle’s characterization of aisthêsis as a being-in-the-middle (mesotês), a characterization that therefore is given much emphasis by Heidegger. Secondly, Heidegger insists that aisthêsis is a motion, now in the sense of ‘alteration’, alloiôsis, and accordingly also emphasizes its character as a suffering (paschein) in the form of a receiving (dechesthai). Thirdly, Heidegger makes

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much of Aristotle’s description of aisthêsis as ‘a kind of logos’: a description he explains in terms of the ‘discerning’ function of aisthêsis as a krinein. Recall that Heidegger already identified krinein as one of the ways of beingness that define the soul in his account of Book III, ch. 9. Finally, we have been prepared for the otherwise bizzare account of the motion that characterizes sensation in terms of production. If the sense organ in a way becomes its object in the act of perception, the object is thereby made or produced: ‘The coming-into-being as the world is. B12 the end (10, 12): poiein = production of [herstellen von], making into something [zu etwas machen]. Γ 4-9’ (December 21, p. 42). If we look at the passage Heidegger is referring to, we find Aristotle using the verb poiein to deny that light or darkness, sound or smell, poiei bodies; it is instead the objects in which these sensibles are found that poiei bodies. The evident sense of poiei here, and the one conveyed by practically every translation, is ‘affects’: Aristotle’s point is that, for example, not a smell itself, but rather that in which it occurs, affects bodies. To translate poiei as ‘produces’ or ‘makes’, as Heidegger suggests, would make complete nonsense of the passage: there is no question of smells or sounds producing bodies. Yet for reasons that should be evident by now, Heidegger needs to find in aisthêsis a movement of production. After aisthêsis, Heidegger turns to the discussion of nous in chapter 4 of Book III. Aristotle’s characterization of nous as apathes, ‘unaffected’ (429a15, 429b24) would appear to pose a difficulty for Heidegger’s interpretation of the being of the soul as motion. Yet Heidegger’s reading insists that this nous is still a ‘pure receiving’ (reines dechesthai) and a determinate form of dunamis and therefore, presumably, also a movement. But what of the active nous, the nous kat’energeian? Heidegger claims, and indeed must claim, that this nous is still dunamei [potentially] precisely because the paschein [being-affected] is an intuiting [ein Vernehmen]. As nous kat’energeian it is itself a being, as such something that can be intuited. Therefore purely objective; the consideration contains nothing of self-reflection. The noêsis noêseôs [thinking of thinking] must be understood purely in Greek terms from the perspective of the problem of motion and the ontological problem. (January 25, p. 48)

This is an obscure passage, but what is evident is the attempt to assimitate even active nous to motion. What is not clear is what Heidegger would make of the nous described in chapter 5 as pure energeia, a chapter he does not consider here, or of the divine nous, alluded to only in passing in the cited passage. For some if not complete clarification, we must wait for the discussion of the dianoetic virtues in the summer semester.

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But Heidegger uses in particular the description of the object of thought to reintroduce the perspective of motion, and specifically of poiesis, into the discussion. Indeed, Heidegger claims that this turn to the object is necessary to understand ‘the pure energeia of nous’. Heidegger latches on to the use of the word pragma at one point to refer to the objects of thought (429b22) and performs his usual assimilation of praxis to poiesis. The crucial passage in the transcript reads as follows. [429b]22: pragma in Aristotle completely broad meaning. cf. Met. 9, 10 1051b2, 5: object: hangs together with the conception of being. Pragma from praxis in the broad sense of kinêsis, of poiêsis (it is the produced [das Hergestellte], the whereupon of dealings [das Worauf irgendeines Umgangs]. Pragma is not the practical, but poiêsis is a kinêsis, whose telos is freely given through itself: the wherewith of dealings is freely given, produced [hergestellte], brought into its being. (January 25, p. 49)

Such a talk of dealings and productions in the context of a passage in which Aristotle is describing the object of thought as the ‘essence’ of a thing abstracted from its matter is striking, to say the least. Perhaps this is why Heidegger at this point must explore further the kind of being corresponding to Aristotle’s account of thinking; and for this, as already noted, he turns to the initial chapters of Metaphysics Z. The general guiding conception of being there as a composite of matter and form is a traditional view, Heidegger insists, ‘But these concepts receive first in the Aristotelian ontology their genuine sense. Namely, from out of kinêsis, or in other words from phusis (itself determined as poiêsis)’ (February 8, pp. 57–58). When he turns therefore to Aristotle’s identification of ousia with form in the sense of to ti ên einai (‘the what it was to be’, usually translated ‘essence’), Heidegger is determined to bring out the connection between the latter term and the movement of production. We must first note that there are two determinations of the to ti ên einai in Aristotle that Heidegger focuses on: one is its identification with hoper tode ti, ‘what this particular thing is’ (1030a3–4). The other is the claim that the to ti ên einai can belong only to what is the eidos of a genos, the ‘species’ of a ‘genus’ (1030a11–12). Identifying the ‘tode ti’ with the eidos and the ‘hoper’ with the genus understood as ‘provenance’, Heidegger interprets the ‘what-it-was-tobe’ as follows: this particular thing is what it was in the sense of having its being, its eidos, determined from out of the genos to which it belongs (February, 19, pp. 76–77). But what is this motion of a thing receiving its being from a type of being given prior to it, this motion of a thing becoming what it was for it to be, what was given for it to be? Heidegger’s answer will not surprise: claiming that ‘beings, in poiêsis, phusis, become and are what the genos is’, he observes: ‘Naturally all of this

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hangs together with the determination of being as being-produced.’ This claim is then further defended in the following passage: Being is something for a look [Aussehen], the things show themselves in the look [Aussehen]. Therefore must I have the eidos when I produce something. 1032b1 eidos is the archê of poiêsis. Being is something made-ready [Fertiggemachtes]. (So does the Greek see the world.) technê is an eidos. 1034b34 transferred to phusis, as an eidos is to be found there too. In theôrein is the genuine being there. (But that too was to be understood from out of the fundamental consideration of poiêsis.) But already in poiêsis is the eidos there. theôrein is also to be understood only as genuine kinêsis, and every poiêsis is a kinêsis. (p. 77)

In this passage, which further explains the ontologically determinative movement of production as one in which I make something ready in looking to its eidos and thus determine its being from out of what it was for it to be, two points need to be highlighted. First is the way in which Heidegger places poiesis above phusis as the guiding perspective of Aristotle’s ontology: what was won from the experience of technê is only tranferred to phusis. Thus in the summer semester phusis will be explicitly identified with ‘Ein Sich Herstellen’, ‘a self-producing’ (6).7 Second is Heidegger’s repeated insistence that θεωρεῖν is a motion and the clear indication that this is to interpret theôrein from the perspective of production. If one were to object that what is contemplated according to Aristotle is nothing produced but, on the contrary, is something eternal, Heidegger would respond that the ‘eternal’ is to be interpreted negatively as simply the not-produced. Accordingly, our passage continues: ‘aei = always being there = what does not need to be produced. Production is always the basis. The genuine telos is the ouranos [heavens], namely, the circular motion is always finished [fertig] and is precisely as finished, what it is’ (p. 77).8 It is striking and doubtless significant that Heidegger identifies the telos with circular motion, rather than with the unmoved mover, about which there is not a word. This keeps us of course within an ontology of motion. We also see here how every element of Heidegger’s reading works towards his fundamental thesis as clearly stated in the following passage: A fundamental experience lies at the ground of what genuinely is. This is not made explicit here. Our interpretation, however, precisely in working through the text, must return to it and bring it out. This fundamental experience is for Aristotle: being = being-produced, this is always a determinate thing, a this-here. Having 7

Bernasconi’s suspicion that Heidegger takes Aristotle to interpret phusis on the basis of poiêsis (Question of Language, p. 79, n.5) is confirmed by this seminar as well as others to which he did not have access. See also pp. 70–71 for how this interpretation relates to Heidegger’s account of the metaphysics of modern technology. 8 See also from the summer semester: ‘Gewonnen aus der Grunderfahrung der Welt: Sein als Hergestelltsein. Ich brauche es nicht erst herstellen, Das αı῎διον ist ein bestimmtes Hergestelltsein. Es ist schon da. Ich brauch es nicht erst herstellen. Das αı῎διον und das πράκτον sind ε῎ σχατα’ (10).

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at one’s disposal. [Verfüg[barhaben]]. So is the ouranos also there. (February 15, p. 69)

In turning to the summer semester and to Heidegger’s account of phronêsis [practical wisdom, prudence], identified here for the first time with Gewissen (13), to the astonishment of the student Hans-Georg Gadamer,9 I wish to focus on two ways in which this virtue might appear to challenge Heidegger’s fundamental thesis: 1) If phronêsis, as the virtue of good proairesis, is subordinated by Aristotle to the nous that characterizes theorein and sophia, how can the movement of proairesis be identified with the being of human life as such? 2) If Aristotle distinguishes phronêsis from technê precisely on the basis of a distinction between praxis (as being its own end) and poiesis (as having its end outside itself), how can Aristotle’s account of phronêsis be used to support the thesis that Aristotle interprets life as movement understood from the perspective of poiesis and therefore on the basis of an experience of being as being-produced? A response to the first question can be seen in the following enigmatic claim: ‘nous (Eth. Z 6) is that which is constitutative for the being of man, but does not itself have the ontological character of man’ (June 1, p. 12). The point is presumably that nous, if something in man, does not have the structure that defines the being of man. This distinction Heidegger wishes to reserve to something else: ‘phronêsis constitutes the genuine being of man in the polis. See the center of the matter!’ (June 7, p. 14). The qualification ‘in the polis’ does not appear to be a restriction, since in his interpretation of the virtues of sunesis, gnômê, and nous itself (1143b6–7), Heidegger insists: ‘The world of others is for me with me there [für mich mit da]: I concern myself [ich besorge] with the world of others’ (June 21, p. 22). The being of man as a being in the polis with others is the focus of the seminar on Book I of the Nicomachean Ethics, already referred to above, that Heidegger is leading during the same summer of 1923.10 If it expresses a way of being with others, phronêsis for Heidegger also defines our being-in-the-world as such that is always a shared being-in-the-world. ‘From the outset phronêsis is a being-placed before one’s world – through phronêsis man is brought into his genuine stand. Being = being in the world’ (July 5, p. 27). Contemplative nous is here absorbed into phronesis as an isolated moment that, unlike the latter, does not at all define the way in which man is in his world. But is not the way of being in the world that characterizes phronêsis radically distinct from that which characterizes technê? As a response to this 9

Gadamer was prevented by illness from coming to Freiburg during the winter semester of 1922/23, but he attended Heidegger’s seminars during the summer semester of 1923. While Gadamer identifies the seminar in question only vaguely as a seminar on the Nicomachean Ethics (Philosophical Hermeneutics, 201), it was certainly the summer continuation of the 1922/23 seminar: the words he heard are right there in the Weiss transcript. 10 In the notes we read: ‘The object of examination is life in the polis’ (p. 1).

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second question we read in the transcript the following: ‘phronêsis is a way of poiein [producing]. But sophia also has a poiein – what is to be clarified for one’ (June 28, p. 25). It is indeed hard to see how Heidegger can defend such a claim when we read in Aristotle that the reasoned capacity to act is different from the reasoned capacity to make. Nor are they included one in the other, for neither is acting making nor making acting. … Making and acting being different, technê must be a matter of making, not of acting. (1140a4–6, 15–16, trans. W.D. Ross)

Yet at the cost of whatever violence to the text, assimilating phronêsis to production is absolutely indispensable to the thesis Heidegger has been seen to defend. A similar act of violence is to be seen in Heidegger’s comparison at one point of poiein with the way health makes a man healthy: the point of Aristotle’s example (1144a3–5) is that sophia makes us happy not in the way that medicine produces health, and thus not in the way of technê, but rather in the way that health makes healthy, i.e. by itself constituting our health. Sophia does not strictly speaking produce our happiness because it in and of itself constitutes our happiness. But this being-its-own-telos that distinguishes praxis from poiesis is what Heidegger’s interpretation must and does suppress. Where we arrive by the end of the course, as already noted, is simply where we began: proairesis, interpreted from the perspective of production, as the movement that characterizes the being of human life. ‘Insofar as the beingmoved of man is proairêsis, he can be determined as an archê’ (July 5, p. 29). This admittedly partial analysis of Heidegger’s seminar has already indicated some ways in which Heidegger’s interpretative moves are questionable and has therefore also given us some reasons to question his account of the being of life as movement. One obvious counter-example to Heidegger’s interpretation is Aristotle’s attribution of life to the unmoved mover. It is therefore not a surprise that an Aristotelian scholar influenced by Heidegger, Pierre Aubenque, should dismiss this attribution as ‘no more than a necessarily inadequate metaphor’ (Problèmes aristoteliciens I, 91; my translation). The assumption here is that life is a motion and that therefore something unmoved cannot literally be alive. If the unmoved mover is energeia, such energeia is to be understood as what is always there, static and unchanging. Yet the attribution of life to the unmoved mover ceases to look metaphorical if we recognize that energeia for Aristotle here and elsewhere means ‘activity’ and if we respect Aristotle’s ontological distinction between energeia and kinesis, the clearest articulation of which is to be found in chapter 6 of Metaphysics Θ (1048b18–35). A motion has its telos, its end or goal, outside itself so that it is always in its very being a being-underway toward this telos. This is why, when its telos is attained, the motion ceases to exist. For

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example, the process of building a house has its end outside of itself in the house that is being built and will come to an end when this end is achieved; you cannot continue building a house once the house is built. A motion is in this sense ontologically suicidal: it can realize what it seeks only by ceasing to exist. An energeia (Aristotle significantly first speaks of praxis here), contains its goal within itself, is at one with its goal in its very being. Because the telos of an activity is the activity itself, the activity does not cease with the realization of this telos but coincides with it. If fully building the house implies stopping to build the house, fully living does not require dying; the being of life is not suicidal like the being of a motion. An activity like living or seeing can be complete in the sense of achieving its telos without finishing. Aristotle expresses this point in terms of verbal tenses. In the case of a motion, the present tense and the perfect tense exclude each other: I cannot be building a house and at the same time have built it. In contrast, I can simultaneously be seeing and be in the state of having seen. Beyond this superficial summary, this is a difficult and controversial text. Heidegger in later unpublished seminars addresses it and, predictably, tries to interpret it in a way that makes the distinction as weak as possible.11 What is to be noted here is simply how this text enables us to understand how something unmoved can still be active and thus alive: living is explicitly identified in the text as an activity and not a motion (1048b27). We need not appeal, however, either to this text or to the life of god to bring into question Heidegger’s identification of the being of life with movement. We can remain within the De Anima and only look at what Aristotle says about the soul as the principle of life in those parts of the work Heidegger chose not to consider. A major target of Aristotle’s critique in the doxographic first book is precisely the view that the soul is a type of movement. And what Aristotle asserts against such a view is not only that the soul is not a self-mover, but that it is not moved at all. In Book I, chapter 3, Aristotle begins his critique in the strongest terms: perhaps it is not only false that the soul’s being is such as it is said to be by those who characterize the soul as moving itself or as capable of movement, but that movement should occur in it is also among the things that are impossible (406a2). The impossibility, it turns out, is that all of the four kinds of movement (1. change of position, 2. change of state, 3. decay and 4. growth) imply position in place (en topôi, 406a16–17): something that clearly cannot be attributed to something with no magnitude like the soul. But the impossibilty has another and even more essential cause. As Aristotle See my ‘Δύναμις and Dasein, ενέργεια and Ereignis’. Brogan, not considering the Aristotelian text in question here nor Heidegger’s attempts to come to terms with it, simply follows Heidegger in identifying energeia with motion. Adopting Heidegger’s translation of energeia as ‘being-at-work’, he writes: ‘Being at work is intrinsically always also an absence, a not-yet-being-produced’ (Heidegger and Aristotle, 132).

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adds later, since all movement is an ecstasis, a departure from a thing’s current state, if the soul in its essence moved, ‘the soul would depart from [its own] being [existait’ an ek tês ousias]’ (406b15–16). The contrast with Heidegger is particularly striking here since, as any reader of Being and Time knows, Heidegger’s interpretation of the being of life as movement leads directly to his characterization in that work of human existence as essentially ‘ecstatic’ (see especially Sein und Zeit, 329). The conception of the soul’s being that Aristotle argues to be impossible is also in his view completely unnecessary. At the very start of his critique Aristotle asserts that ‘it is not necessary for what moves [other things] to be itself moved’ (406a3). The soul is of course a cause of motion, but that gives us no more reason to attribute motion to it than it does to attribute motion to the unmoved mover. As we saw, Heidegger’s interpretation of chapter 9 of Book 3 turns Aristotle’s account of the soul’s power to cause motion into an identification of the very being of the soul with motion and turns what Aristotle identifies as the principles of motion into themselves types of motion. Is this not precisely the error Aristotle combats in critiquing his predecessors? In chapter 4 Aristotle attacks a second error, i.e. that of attributing to the soul itself the motions it causes in the body, arguing there against those who claim that the soul moves because it grieves, rejoices, perceives and thinks. Aristotle responds that it is not the soul itself that does these things, but rather we who do these things by means of the soul. The motion is therefore not in the soul itself, but rather sometimes moves up to it and sometimes proceeds from it (408b15–17): sensation, for example, if it is a motion, ends in the soul, while recollection as a process begins with the soul. The soul again is a cause of motion without being itself a motion. It is therefore also in this chapter that Aristotle first claims that nous is apathes (408b29–30). Yet nous appears here to be only an example of the motionlessness of the soul as a whole. The conclusion drawn from the apatheia of thinking is that old age is something that affects not the soul, but only that in which the soul is to be found. Furthermore, it is not only thinking, but also love and hate that are said not to be pathê of the mind or soul (reference not entirely clear), but of that which has it (408b28). It is therefore seemingly the soul itself, and not only nous, that is apathes. Finally, the conclusion of the argument is that the soul not only cannot be moved but as altogether incapable of being moved clearly also cannot move itself (408b32–33). Every soul, it turns out, is an unmoved mover. In this respect, the only difference between our soul and the divine unmoved mover is that our soul, as the form of a body, is moved accidentally as residing in a body that moves (see 406a5–12). Given this extensive critique of the view that the soul is movement in Book 1, when Aristotle in Book 2 himself defines the soul as an energeia, we must understand energeia in contrast to movement. Indeed, the term Aristotle

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uses in his definition is entelecheia (412a22), thereby emphasizing, what he later explicitly defends (415b15–20), that the soul is the end (telos), the fullfillment or completion of the living organism rather than the process of generation that aims at this. Furthermore, while he distinguishes (412a22–28; see also 412b25–413a1, 414a4–14, 417a27–28) this first entelecheia, identified with the full possession of the capacities that make something alive, from a second entelecheia that is the exercise of these capacities (and thus energeia in the sense of activity), we will see immediately below that even the latter is not identified by Aristotle with a motion. The distinction between kinesis and energeia we see articulated in Metaphysics Θ 6 thus proves an indispensable ontological presupposition of Aristotle’s account of the being of the soul. This is indeed a central hypothesis of Polansky’s commentary on De Anima (see pp. 12–15) that goes far in showing exactly how both the defining capacities of the soul and their corresponing activities are energeiai without being kinêseis. What I would note here is that in Book II, chapter 5, where Aristotle characterizes motion as a type of energeia, but incomplete (atelês, 417a17), a characterization not incompatible with the distinction between kinesis and energeia as such, he questions whether either exercising, e.g. the knowledge one possesses (what he has characterized as a second entelecheia) or even coming to acquire this knowledge (as a first entelecheia) can be characterized as an ‘alteration’(alloiôsis (417b5–17). This of course would not even be a question if the soul were in its very essence motion. Furthermore, and most importantly, Aristotle makes clear that if one can speak of an ‘alteration’ here, it is a ‘being-altered’ or ‘suffering’ (paschein) of a different kind: one that is not the destruction (phthora) of something by its contrary (as when what is white becomes black), but that is rather the preservation (sôtêria) of what is potential by the corresponding activity (417b2–5). This is a very peculiar sort of ‘alteration’ indeed: one in which a thing is preserved as itself in being altered. This discussion occurs in the context of an account of perception because the point is that if ‘perception’ appears (dokei) to be a kind of alteration (416b34–35), this is only because we have no other word to describe how it is activated by its object (418a1–3): strictly speaking, it either is not an ‘alteration’ at all or is the peculiar kind Aristotle distinguishes. It is significant that in the 1922–23 seminar Heidegger does not emphasize the peculiar nature of the ‘alteration’ that characterizes perception even though he draws attention to this point in the seminar of 1921, noting that we have here a ‘becoming-other [Anderswerden] in which that which undergoes something comes to itself’ (July 26, p. 17).12 Not drawing attention to this point in the 1922–23 seminar certainly makes it easier for Heidegger there to treat perception, along with the soul in the exercise of all of its powers, simply 12

M0631, Box 3, Folder 5, Helene Weiss papers, used courtesy of the Department of Special Collections, Stanford University Libraries.

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as a motion. Finally, if Heidegger’s interpretation of orexis as a motion, to which he gives such central importance, appears to find support in a text he partially cites (November 9, p. 9), this text is actually open to a very different construal. What Heidegger cites are the words ‘desire is a kind of motion’ (orexis kinêsis tis esti) at De Anima 433b18 (though the transcript incorrectly has 433a18). But the text continues with a reference to energeia and disagreement about how to construe the Greek text makes unclear its relation to the preceding claim. The OCT reads: ‘hê orexis kinêsis tis estin, hê energeiai’, translated by Shields as: ‘and desire, when in actuality, is a kind of motion’ (69). The Loeb reads: ‘hê orexis kinêsis tis estin hêi energeia’: ‘desire is a kind of motion qua activity’. Polansky, however, suggests another reading that is equally possible: hê orexis kinêsis tis estin ê energeia: ‘desire is a kind of motion or activity’. This text would leave open the possibility that desire is, like the activation of other powers of the soul, to be understood as an activity rather than as a motion. Polansky thus comments: In calling occurrent desire motion of a sort or even actuality, if this is the correct text, Aristotle indicates here as elsewhere (see 431a4–7), that a psychical operation is perhaps really an activity complete at every moment rather than a motion.13 (Aristotle’s De Anima, 522)

Though such a reading is only a possibility, it is in line with what we have seen to be Aristotle’s general determination to distinguish the soul as energeia, and the specific energeiai that constitute it, from motion; furthermore, even as no more than a possibility, it seriously weakens Heidegger’s interpretation given how much he needs orexis to be a motion. It should by now be evident that Heidegger’s surprising decision to turn to the account of the power of locomotion at the end of De Anima to find there an account of the being of life as such is by no means innocent. Of all the powers that characterize the soul as the principle of life, the power of moving from one place to another is the one that might seem hardest to characterize as an activity rather than as a motion. This is only an appearance, of course: the physical movement from one place to another is something the body does, while that in the soul which makes this movement possible, i.e. orexis and nous, are not themselves necessarily treated as motions. But by ignoring the ‘loco-’ part of ‘locomotion’, as if what was under discussion was all motion as such, and turning a discussion of a power exclusive to some animals into a determination of the being of all life, Heidegger manages to turn the being of life as such, and thus the soul as such, into motion. The ‘trick’ only needs to be exposed to cease to persuade.

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For a discussion of the problems with this text and a defence of the reading adopted by Polansky, see Hicks, Aristotle: De Anima, 562–63.

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But if Heidegger’s reading cannot be defended textually, can perhaps a philosophical defence be made? As already suggested by a text cited above (November 23, p. 20), the ‘motion’ Heidegger identifies with life is not the ‘ontic’ motion opposed to rest, but an ‘ontological motion’ of being-in-theworld that can describe the state of rest itself. Significantly, Derrida saw Heidegger as struggling to articulate this kind of motion in Being and Time: ‘Je crois que le problème de la Bewegtheit comme non-Bewegung était le problème le plus important aux yeux de Heidegger lui-même’ (Question de l’Être, 307). As Derrida could not know when he made this observation, in 1928 Heidegger gave a seminar on Aristotle’s Physics in which he attempts to define what he there calls the ‘absolute motion’ that defines the being of Dasein itself in its understanding of being and in which he asserts that being means Bewegtheit (GA83, 18).14 Is not then Heidegger’s ‘motion’ an alternative to, or reconceptualization of Aristotle’s ‘activity’? To an extent this is certainly the case. The question raised by the 1922/23 seminar is the following: in ignoring Aristotle’s reasons for not identifying the soul with motion of any sort and in turning Aristotle’s analysis of the locomotive power of some living things into an analysis of the motion of all life, is not Heidegger at least distorting the ontology of life, and indeed the ontology period, actually to be found in Aristotle? The main point of these observations is not to accuse Heidegger of an unfaithfulness to the text that he would not deny. Speaking of the demands of interpretation in the seminar, Heidegger comments: ‘“Reading into” is no objection. I can see something in an interpretation only when I pose questions to the object. The [legitimacy] of a questioning depends on the extent to which it is from the very outset philosophical’ (November 16, p. 16). He says this because, as he also notes later in the seminar, the central thesis he attributes to Aristotle is nowhere to be found in Aristotle’s texts: ‘The proposition “being = being-produced” is not to be found in Aristotle. It is not explicit for him. Interpretation requires a leap forward, goes beyond that which is to be interpreted itself’ (February 15, pp. 69–70).15 The point, therefore, is not to question the faithfulness of this reading, but rather to indicate what possibilities for philosophical reflection contained in Aristotle’s work it suppresses.16 For if this reading depends on eliding the distinction 14

For my discussion of this seminar, for which there is a transcript among the Helene Weiss papers that shows the protocols published in GA83 to be missing the final class, see ‘Aristotelian Reception’. The challenge, of course, to which Heidegger does not give sufficient attention, is that of distinguishing between a ‘reading into’ that imports alien doctrines into a text and a ‘reading into’ that is a matter of, as Bernasconi expresses it, attempting to hear the ‘truth’ of the texts (Essence of Language, 4). 16 Studies of Heidegger’s project of ‘destructing’ the ontological tradition, such as the illuminating one by Ijsseling (‘Destruction of Ontology’), have not sufficiently, if at all, attended to the question of what it would mean for a Heideggerian ‘destruction’ to fail. If failure is at all a possibility here, it seems that it would need to take the form of a positive appropriation that is not sufficiently radical in not fully freeing a particular work of philosophical thinking from the concepts the tradition has imposed upon it. The radicality required here is perhaps itself the truest form of faithfulness. 15

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between kinesis and energeia, and accordingly also that between poiesis and praxis, we must wonder what kind of ontology of life would emerge from a reading of Aristotle that does justice to these distinctions. What would it mean to conceive of the soul as ‘an activity of motionlessness’ (energeia akinêsias, N.E. 1154b26–28), to cite a phrase Heidegger takes no account of even if it might be said to bear a certain kinship to that ‘Bewegtheit comme non-Bewegung’ Derrida found in Being and Time? What would it mean to distinguish ontologically the essence of life itself from the processes and alterations it produces in the body? Furthermore, since Heidegger is doubtless right about the presence of a fundamental experience of being at the basis of every intepretation of living things, what conception of being would result from taking praxis in distinction from poiesis as our guiding perspective? How would an ontology of activity differ from an ontology of production?17 Answering such questions would of course require a seminar on De Anima to rival Heidegger’s. The goal here is simply to show, first, that such questions need to be asked and, second, that Heidegger’s reading of Aristotle prevents them from being asked. In this regard, Heidegger’s seminar is much less radical than it pretends to be. In doing violence to the texts it only avoids the violence to our own assumptions that a more faithful reading would require. Among our assumptions, the one that demands here the violence of critique is precisely the assumption that there is nothing beyond motion and rest, even if, like Heidegger, one understands motion broadly to include rest. Perhaps the most important thing that Aristotle’s De Anima has to show us is that a philosophy that thinks only in terms of motion and rest cannot possibly understand the activity that defines life.

Funding The research for this paper was made possible by a grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada [grant number 435-2014-1848].

Bibliography Aubenque, Pierre. Problèmes aristoteliciens I: Philosophie théorique. Paris: J. Vrin, 2009. Bernasconi, Robert. The Question of Language in Heidegger’s History of Being. Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press, 1985. Brogan, Walter. Heidegger and Aristotle: The Twofoldness of Being. Albany, NY: SUNY, 2006. Denker, A., G. Figal, F. Volpi, and H. Zaborowski, eds. Heidegger und Aristoteles, Heidegger Jahrbuch 3. Freiburg: Karl Alber, 2007. 17

A study that should therefore be read with and against Heidegger here is Kosman, The Activity of Being. In contrast, Brogan throughout his book follows Heidegger in attributing to Aristotle a conception of being in terms of production and as enduring presence (see, e.g. 63 and 125), seeking only to show, along with Heidegger, how Aristotle attempts to reconcile with this conception the kinetic character of being (34, 36, 64–73).

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Derrida, Jacques. Heidegger: la Question de l’Être et l’Histoire. Paris: Galilée, 2013. Gadamer, Hans-Georg. Philosophical Hermeneutics. Translated and edited by David E. Linge. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976. Gonzalez, Francisco J. ‘The Aristotelian Reception of the Idea of the Good According to Heidegger and Gadamer’. χώρα: REAM 15/16 (2017/2018): 611–28. Gonzalez, Francisco J. ‘The Birth of Being and Time: Heidegger’s Pivotal 1921 Reading of Aristotle’s On the Soul’. Southern Journal of Philosophy 56, no. 2 (2018): 216–39. Gonzalez, Francisco J. ‘Δύναμις and Dasein, Ἐνέργεια and Ereignis: Heidegger’s (Re)Turn to Aristotle’. Research in Phenomenology 48 (2018): 409–32. Heidegger, Martin. Sein und Zeit. 15th ed. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer, 1979. Heidegger, Martin. Grundbegriffe der aristotelischen Philosophie. Gesamtausgabe 18. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2002. Heidegger, Martin. Seminare: Platon – Aristoteles – Augustinus. Gesamtausgabe 83. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 2012. Hicks, R. D. Aristotle: De Anima. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1907. Ijsseling, Samuel. ‘Heidegger and the Destruction of Ontology’. Man and World 15 (1982): 3–16. Kisiel, Ted. The Genesis of Heidegger’s Being and Time. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Kosman, Aryeh. The Activity of Being: An Essay on Aristotle’s Ontology. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Press, 2013. Polansky, Ronald. Aristotle’s De Anima. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Shields, Christopher. Aristotle: De Anima. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2016.