Human Nature in Literature, History, and Philosophy

History, Human Nature, and the Self

What is history, and why is it important? History is the continuum of events occurring in succession, leading from the past to the present and even into the future (Wordsearch 2010). History matters because it shapes both humanity and the events and trends that surround culture and civilization. It gives people an understanding of why things are the way they are and why people behave as they do. It also helps us understand how and why people perceive one another. History is in us and around us. Parents teach their children about family history so that it helps them understand who they are — the very nature of humanity. The idea of personal history has even become part of popular culture. History is a combination of trends, facts, figures, people, dialogue, and brush strokes that are continually interpreted. It helps us understand who we are, where we have been, and where we might go — strategically or tactically.

George Santayana, a nineteenth- and twentieth-century philosopher and novelist, wrote in his book The Life of Reason about progress, about common sense, and about the manner in which humans can enjoy a self-actualized life. In that work he separates humans from beasts by their capacity to understand and embrace change, and is famously quoted as saying, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (McCormick 2003, 144). Within the broad range of history, and as we take on the responsibility of becoming global citizens, we must ask ourselves why historical interpretations of human nature seem to vary over time and place.

The Ancient Greek Foundation of Individuality

One would think that defining human nature — what it is to be human — would be relatively easy. It is, however, quite complex and certainly dependent upon a number of factors. In the modern world, for instance, human nature often seems to follow the path of least resistance. Prior to the Medieval Period, the idea of the individual self had numerous permutations. The concept of self became quite elaborate in Ancient Greece and Rome, where the idea of humanism took on new meaning as it was debated from Plato and Aristotle through Livy and the later Roman poets.

In the Greek myth of Prometheus, for example, an individual is seen as responsible for his own actions and possesses the free will to decide upon those actions. Those actions may be helpful or harmful to society, yet there is enough faith in the individual to allow freedom of will — regardless of consequence. Socrates chose death rather than dishonor in an individual decision, and while the famous Oracle at Delphi was used as a predictor of the spinning web of the gods within the human realm, even Plato agreed that the individual played a role in shaping his own fate — even though there was a higher sense of belonging to the State and, ultimately, to the will of the gods (Roochnik, 2004).

Camus's Existentialism and the Weight of Choice

This Promethean archetype is alive and well in Albert Camus's short story The Guest. For Camus, decisions and choices have consequences, and the ultimate consequence, of course, is death. Death, however, is not simply a random event — a chance happening. Instead, Camus's existentialism shines through with the thought that all humans eventually die, and that after death — non-existence — life becomes immaterial. The work is heavily influenced by Camus's views on French colonialism and the historical situation in Algeria. The story explores what happens to an intellectual who refuses to take a strong side in a conflict — who can logically understand both sides of the argument — and instead of becoming dogmatic on the subject, faces a genuine choice: Daru can choose to turn a blind eye to the prisoner, or turn him in; the prisoner can choose to go to jail or flee. If one flees historical reality, is it not ultimately futile, since history will eventually catch up with us?

As a "guest" of this world, then, what is the basic responsibility we have toward humanity? Daru chooses an isolated and ascetic life — he flees society, but society catches up with him, and it is his decision that allows him to become more fully human. Of particular importance in this work is that the original French title, L'hôte, carries a double meaning: it can mean either "the guest" or "the host." Thus, the title refers to the struggle of both the prisoner and the schoolmaster, offering the reader a moral guide that is less than logical but historically practical (Camus, 2000).

References

Camus, A. (2000). The guest. In Y. a. Cummings, The terrible power of a minor guilt (pp. 41–56). Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press.

McCormick, J. (2003). George Santayana: A biography. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers.

Pinker, S. (1989). Learnability and cognition: The acquisition of argument structure. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Roochnik, D. (2004). Retrieving the ancients: An introduction to Greek philosophy. New York: Wiley-Blackwell.

Singer, I. (2006). Gimpel the fool: And other stories. (S. Bellow, Trans.) New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Wordsearch. (2010). WordNet Web. Princeton University. http://wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn?s=history (accessed April 1, 2010).