A review by adamz24
Realist Magic: Objects, Ontology, Causality by Timothy Morton
3.0
Completely. Batshit.
Also the most fun I've had reading theory or philosophy in quite some time. Hyperobjects was similar in its tendency to amuse and inspire just as much as irritate, but that book was held back by Morton's larger ecological project, its sort of impassioned enterprise. Realist Magic finds Morton in stupendous form, free to develop the batshit lunacy of his object-oriented ontology in fuller and clearer terms.
Morton is actually a very good scholar, an intensely intelligent Romanticist at heart, it seems, and a valuable reader of David Lynch (and the shitty Shelley, but I don't like the shitty Shelley). These qualities differentiate him from the merry band of complete asshats and charlatans (mother's-basement-dweller Ian Bogost and bridge troll Levi Bryant, especially) who also work in this general area.
Because Morton is seemingly smart, and utterly insane, his work makes for very good reading. What makes this book especially magnificent is that it appears to be an entirely (or mostly) serious attempt to articulate an ontology that is best described as a description of how things appear to be in the films of David Lynch, minus Lynch's tendency to (as I read it) a sort of somewhat more traditional Eastern-influenced mysticism. You get the sense that Morton actually believes what he's arguing. And because he's charming more than obnoxious, you sometimes come close to getting the sense that he might be right.
Assuming one buries one's head in Bysshe Shelley for a protracted period of time, obsessively consumes and theorizes Lynch films and Doctor Who, indulges in (and this is speculation*) a truly shocking quantity of hallucinogens, and befriends Graham Harman, while reading sprinkles of 18th, 19th, 20th century European philosophy, ancient philosophy, medieval Judaeo-Islamic philosophy, and writings about 20th-century physics, one might have a chance of approximating what Timothy Morton has achieved here.
Until then, one must do with reading Timothy Morton. And that is a pleasure. I love you, Tim. I want to be your friend. I'm sorry for what I said about your friends. Thank you for this book. Honestly.
*Well, substantiated speculation. The guy obviously spends a great deal of time staring at things. His blog has multiple posts on DMT, LSD, dreams about eating huge quantities of magic mushrooms, and so on. So yeah, the OOO turn and psychedelia seem pretty inextricably linked to me.
Also the most fun I've had reading theory or philosophy in quite some time. Hyperobjects was similar in its tendency to amuse and inspire just as much as irritate, but that book was held back by Morton's larger ecological project, its sort of impassioned enterprise. Realist Magic finds Morton in stupendous form, free to develop the batshit lunacy of his object-oriented ontology in fuller and clearer terms.
Morton is actually a very good scholar, an intensely intelligent Romanticist at heart, it seems, and a valuable reader of David Lynch (and the shitty Shelley, but I don't like the shitty Shelley). These qualities differentiate him from the merry band of complete asshats and charlatans (mother's-basement-dweller Ian Bogost and bridge troll Levi Bryant, especially) who also work in this general area.
Because Morton is seemingly smart, and utterly insane, his work makes for very good reading. What makes this book especially magnificent is that it appears to be an entirely (or mostly) serious attempt to articulate an ontology that is best described as a description of how things appear to be in the films of David Lynch, minus Lynch's tendency to (as I read it) a sort of somewhat more traditional Eastern-influenced mysticism. You get the sense that Morton actually believes what he's arguing. And because he's charming more than obnoxious, you sometimes come close to getting the sense that he might be right.
Assuming one buries one's head in Bysshe Shelley for a protracted period of time, obsessively consumes and theorizes Lynch films and Doctor Who, indulges in (and this is speculation*) a truly shocking quantity of hallucinogens, and befriends Graham Harman, while reading sprinkles of 18th, 19th, 20th century European philosophy, ancient philosophy, medieval Judaeo-Islamic philosophy, and writings about 20th-century physics, one might have a chance of approximating what Timothy Morton has achieved here.
Until then, one must do with reading Timothy Morton. And that is a pleasure. I love you, Tim. I want to be your friend. I'm sorry for what I said about your friends. Thank you for this book. Honestly.
*Well, substantiated speculation. The guy obviously spends a great deal of time staring at things. His blog has multiple posts on DMT, LSD, dreams about eating huge quantities of magic mushrooms, and so on. So yeah, the OOO turn and psychedelia seem pretty inextricably linked to me.