Well, not as many books this month, but that’s to be expected since the term is winding down.
1. Contagious Holiness: Jesus’ meals with sinners by Craig Blomberg. After completing my major paper on the Lord’s Supper last term, I sent a copy to Scot McKnight and he was kind enough to dialogue with me about the paper (William Cavanaugh also read my paper and gave me some helpful feedback). Scot pointed to Blomberg’s book and so I finally got around to finishing it. This book is an excellent study that examines table fellowship in the Old Testament, in the intertestamental period, and in the Greco-Roman world of the first century. Blomberg argues that Jesus is well-rooted in the Jewish practice of table fellowship, but what is radically new with Jesus is that he eats with the impure, the unclean, and the sinners because he believes that it is holiness, not sinfulness, that is contagious. Blomberg then concludes with a reflection on the importance of Christians recovering the practice of this type of contagious holiness through table fellowship. This is an excellent book.
2. Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense by N.T. Wright. This is the new Mere Christianity, a top-notch reflection on Christian living today. I hope the folks back in Ontario that read this blog go out and buy this book. Wright breaks the book into three parts. The first part is a description of the contemporary situation defined by the cry for justice, the hunger for spirituality, the longing for relationships, and the quest for beauty. We desire these four things and yet they continually elude us, like echoes of a voice that spoke while we were sleeping. The second part is a description of the Christian story from God to Israel, to Jesus, to Pentecost, and the Church. The third part brings the first two parts together and focuses on worship, prayer, the bible, the Church, and the new creation.
3. The Story of Christian Theology: Twenty Centuries of Tradition and Reform by Roger E. Olson. This book covers a lot of ground very quickly, as twenty centuries of Christianity are packed into 600 pages. However, it was a useful refresher, and a good one volume work on the history of the Church, the various movements in theology and the great thinkers from our past. The author’s biases do come through here and there (an Anabaptist bias, and one that is highly critical of any Greek influences on Christianity) but I suppose that that sort of thing is inescapable when it comes to writing history. Besides my own biases are fairly similar to Olson’s, so no harm done.
4. Kicking the Post out of Ultra-Modernity by Thomas C. Oden. This doesn’t really count as a book per se. It is a short encyclical that was originally given as a plenary address to the Evangelical Theological Society. As the title suggests, Oden is arguing that postmodernity is just a thinly disguised hypermodernity (a notion that is well inline with Lyotard’s definition of postmodernity), and thus contemporary Christians are faced with a deepening of the challenges modernity posed against Christianity. In response to these challenges Oden argues for a return to Scripture that recovers something of the broader tradition of exegesis. He also argues for a return to a “Christian world” in the sense that the world be understood at God’s world. Furthermore, in the section that I enjoyed the most, he argues that a willingness to suffer for truth is intrinsic to a Christian understanding of truth. Finally, he concludes by affirming the hope that God will continue to ensure the existence of his Church.
5. Growing in the Prophetic by Mike Bickle. Finally I find a half decent book written by a member of the recent charismatic movement. Bickle desires to bring together a serious study of Scripture and a commitment to the contemporary prophetic movement. He writes with humility, and is not afraid to illustrate his points with mistakes made by his congregation as they have journeyed through this. I don’t always agree with Bickle, but at least I didn’t get to the end of this book and want to throw it out.
6. The Question Concerning Technology by Martin Heidegger. In this work, Heidegger’s thesis is that the essence of technology is best described as a non-technological enframing that challenges humanity to reveal the actual as standing-reserve. Technology is essentially a way of revealing. It brings-forth (i.e. presences) nature as if everything is merely a supply of energy that can be unlocked, exposed, and stored. Heidegger’s definition counters the prevalent instrumental-anthropological definition of technology. His definition reveals the danger inherent to technology, for technology (as an enframing that challenges forth) blocks poesis, which is also a revealing that brings forth. Yet the discovery of the essence of technology also points the way to salvation. Thus, the question concerning technology is a question concerning the constellation in which revealing and concealing, and the essential unfolding of truth propriates. Consequently, Heidegger urges the reader to focus upon poesis as the techne which most fully reveals truth, in order to break free from the hold that technology’s enframing has upon actuality. This is a great essay, and one that has left a permanent mark on all discussions about the relationship between technology and culture.
7. Down to This: squalor and splendour in a big-city shantytown by Shaughnessy Bishop-Stall. This book was a birthday gift from a friend, and it was an excellent gift. The author writes about his experience living for ten months in what was the largest hobo town in North America — Toronto’s very own Tent City. It was interesting to read this book since I know most of the neighbourhoods, places, and agencies that the author describes. He does an excellent job of providing an honest glimpse of what homelessness does to people. This is a fine example of truth-telling that does not romanticise, or villianise, the people described. Recommended reading.
8. Slaughterhouse-Five or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty-Dance with Death by Kurt Vonnegut. My old tree-planting foreman has been telling me to read Vonnegut for years. I finally got around to reading this classic story about the bombing of Dresden at the end of WWII (Vonnegut was actually in Dresden as a P.O.W. when the bombing occurred — a bombing that killed more civilians than those killed at Hiroshima or Nagasaki). It’s hard to describe the feelings one gets from this book — sorrow, and laughter, and anger, and resignation. I guess the book does a pretty good job of reflecting what it’s like to live as broken people in a broken world. And so it goes.

Okay before I continue this oh so fascinating series (all joking aside, if you only read one post in the series, this is the one to read), I should clarify two things.
(1) The semiotic approach being described here is particular to Umberto Eco. This series should actually be called “Eco’s Semiotics for Dummies” because I am not providing a general survey of multiple views (although some of those views are dealt with [or presupposed] by Eco). As well, continuing the “for dummies” theme, I will mention that http://www.thefreedictionary.com was a great help to me while reading through this book. See a word you don’t know? Well, chances are, I didn’t know it either.
(2) One of the things I struggled with the first time I worked through this book (I’ve gone through it twice now) was how the chapter tied together. I had some trouble understanding the flow of his argument from section to section. How does it all tie together? So, let me clarify a bit of where we’ve come from before I move to the next section. In the introduction (Part I of this series), Eco argued that he wanted to resolve the dichotomy between the sign-function and semiotics by arguing that the semiotic process applies to signs themselves. In order to do to this he must locate himself within a range of approaches to hermeneutics. Thus, he posits a continuum with x at one end and y at the other. At point ‘x’ are those who only see one meaning in a text, and at point ‘y’ are those who see any meaning in a text. Eco’s is interesting locating himself between those two points and positing a limited range of meanings in a text. Therefore, in Chapter One (Part II of this series), Eco further explicates the positions of those at the points ‘x’ and ‘y’ when dealing with the basic semiotic notion of the sign. He then explains his middle way in relation to this concept, thereby affirming his thesis. Therefore, having affirmed this via media, he goes on to explain just exactly how he understands meaning. And this is the topic of the section we will now look at. Thus without further ado:
[2] Dictionary vs. Encyclopedia
Eco’s central thesis in this section is that the Porphyrian tree (i.e. dictionary) model of definition is untenable. Rather meaning must be understood through an encyclopedic model, and the Porphyrian model should just be employed as a pragmatic tool. Okay, far enough, but what does this all mean?
Well, we need to first understand a dictionary approach to meaning. Hjelmsev was probably one of the first to propose the idea of the modern dictionary by extending his sign/figurae distinction (see Part II) from the expression-plane to the content-plane as well. However, this approach requires a limited number of primitives, and so a lexical system of hyonyms and hyperonyms is created in the format of a tree that slowly tapers at the top (i.e. Regnum, Class, Subclass, Order, suborder, Family, Genus, Species, Common Name). Such an approach to definition does not drift into synonymy but is using short-hand expressions to signify common sets of properties. Properties are contained or meant by certain taxonomic labels. However, for this approach to be successful there must be a limited number of primitives (“primitives being the things at the bottom of the tree) and a criteria that firmly establishes what is a primitive and what is not. Unfortunately, this approach has trouble resolving those problems.
Before pressing onto to his proposed resolution, Eco first takes a step back and looks at where this dictionary model came from. It was Aristotle who first argued that definition meant establishing a set of essential attributes. He also developed the notion of predicables, the modes or categories which can be applied to a subject. Porphry developed Aristotle’s notion and posited five predicables (genus, species, differentia, property, accident) and this way of thinking has impacted definition ever since.
As mentioned above, this approach is problematic for it assumes a finite set of genera and species which are mutually definable through hyonymy and hyperonymy. The reason why this is so problematic is that such a system of clusters is completely arbitrary. It is only arbitrary differentiae that make up the various clusters, and so the tree can be continually re-elaborated and rearranged. Furthermore, because differentiae are accidents, they are also infinite, or at least indefinite. Therefore, the Porphyrian model of definition is untenable. The tree dissolves.
However, the notion of defining things by clusters of common properties is useful to the extent that it reveals a dictionary’s true identity: a dictionary is a disguised encyclopedia.
An encyclopedia contains the world knowledge of a given culture. This encyclopedic knowledge provides frames and scripts for any given situation, that allows a certain meaning to be the appropriate meaning for that context. Within an encyclopedia there is no hierarchy of properties, but such hierarchies are only created ad hoc in any given context. Therefore, the encyclopedia is the regulative hypothesis that allows local speakers to construct an arbitrary dictionary in order to ensure communication. Encyclopedic knowledge can be mapped as a net-like labyrinth where all points can be connected with all other points to an infinite degree. Thus, it is a myopic algorithm for one can only see where one is at a specific local point, one cannot see the whole at any time. Thus, “truth” cannot be discovered in any sort of global way, it can only be recognised in local places — with the recognition that that “truth” always has an ideological bias.
Therefore, Eco concludes, the encyclopedia is a semantic concept and the dictionary is a pragmatic tool. How exactly the relationship between an encyclopedia and an ad hoc dictionary plays out will be made clear in the next chapter.

Well, a pretty good month for reading. Ended up reading a few I didn’t expect to read, and not reading a few that I had intended to read. So it goes. Without further ado:
1. The Message and the Kingdom: How Jesus and Paul Ignited a Revolution and Transformed the Ancient World by Richard A. Horsley and Neil Asher Silberman. I’ve gotta say that I was rather disappointed by this one. I really wanted to like this book, I have always supported a counter-imperial political reading of Jesus and Paul, and so I was hoping to find an ally in the authors of this book. After all, this book is all about how Jesus and Paul were socio-political counter-cultural revolutionaries exercising a type of preferential option for the poor. Unfortunately the authors, so driven to counter voices both from the Jesus Seminar (who argue that Jesus was a wandering Cynic teaching timeless, apolitical, truths) and from mainstream American Evangelicalism (who argue that America is the Kingdom of God), push their point to the an extreme and end up throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath-water. Consequently, the authors display a type of “we know better because of recent archaeology” attitude that is really quite unfounded. Because they think they know better they feel that it is okay to pick and choose what they want from the New Testament canon, and discard anything that seems “religious”. They thus create a false dichotomy between “religion/spirituality” and “politics/economics”, and in doing so they deny the significance of the resurrection for early Christianity, and they also deny the divinity of Jesus, arguing that he preached (of all things!) a “kingless kingdom”. Oh dear.
2. Cross Shattered Christ: Meditations on the Seven Last Words by Stanley Hauerwas. This was a fairly simple devotional read. I always enjoy Hauerwas and this book was no exception. It should be read slowly over a number of days, not devoured in half an hour — as those of us who read many books would be tempted to do. I’m actually working on writing a response to it entitled, “Cross Shattered Lives” so I’ll hold off further comments for now.
3. Cur Deus Homo by St. Anselm of Canterbury. Within this book (whose title means “Why God Became Man” — not “Why God Became Gay” as some have supposed), Anselm tries to argue, from logic alone without an appeal to revelation or Scripture, that (1) there is no salvation apart from Christ and (2) how salvation is accomplished through Christ. Anselm breaks from the early Church Fathers who mainly understood the atonement to be God triumphing over Satan, and argues that Christ died to satisfy God’s justice. Anselm marks the beginning of scholasticism and throughout this book he seeks to prove his points using logic alone, and not appealing to Scripture or revelation. Of course, I tend to think that all attempts to do this are bound to fail but Anselm was living in a very different world than us (and had been castrated) so what can I say?
4. From Glory to Glory: Texts from Gregory of Nyssa’s Mystical Writings compiled and introduced by Jean Danielou. It was interesting to read this book with Hans Boersma (one of my profs) since Boersma has a much more positive view of the Christian-Platonist synthesis that existed for several centuries of Christianity. I want to like Gregory because of his Universalism but I really struggle when it comes to reading authors who treat the bible like a spiritual allegory. I’ve got to get over that somehow, but I’m tempted to just toss the book out because the hermeneutics seem so ridiculous.
5. The Freedom of a Christian, The Bondage of the Will, The Ninety-five Theses, and Theses for the Heidelberg Disputation by Martin Luther. I had fun reading these little selections by Luther. I was struck by his emphasis upon engaging in a cruciform theology, and particularly by his emphasis (in The Freedom of a Christian) that all the works Christians perform should be motivated by their love for their neighbours. Thus, summing up his argument that Christians are both lords over all (kings), and subject to all (priests), he says, “We conclude, therefore, that a Christian lives not in himself but in Christ and in his neighbour. Otherwise he is not a Christian. He lives in Christ through faith, in his neighbour through love. By faith he is caught up beyond himself into God. By love he descends beneath himself into his neighbour.”
6. Letters from Lake Como: Explorations in Technology and the Human Race by Romano Guardini. This pastoral reflection is actually a part of a “Ressourcement” series. Here, Guardini reflects upon the ways in which major technological changes have made it impossible for culture to remain human. This is so because human culture is premised upon an organic link to nature and a machine-based culture has severed that link. He explores this in various ways, laments much of the consequences of this, but ultimately embraces this culturally transition as an act of God. Therefore, he argues that this new technological culture must be humanised so that a new cosmos can burst forth. Guardini is a gentle writer but I do wonder if he has missed the mark a little here. Voices like McLuhan and Postman remind us that humanised media may not be as easy as we imagine. In fact, for certain media, it could prove to be impossible. Plus, I can’t shake the feeling that Hegel is haunting this book and giving Guardini a skewed perspective on history.
7. Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language by Umberto Eco. Read it, struggled with it, rather enjoyed it, and am blogging my way through it, so I won’t bother commenting here.
8. The Twelve Caesars by Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus. This is a beautiful little piece, written in the second century, that traces the lives of the Caesars from Julius Caesar to Domitian. The stories are well told and convey both the reality and the otherness of ancient Rome to the contemporary reader. Quite enjoyable.
9. Night by Elie Wiesel. I found it somewhat ironic that this book appeared on Oprah’s book club shortly after the scandal involving the memoirs of James Frey. There is no better way to restore one’s credibility than by exploiting the memoirs of a Holocaust survivor. However, Oprah’s thumbs-up meant that a book that I have been looking for (ever since I read The Crucified God back in 2001) was suddenly accessible everywhere. Wiesel tells a poignant and tragically insightful story that doesn’t linger on details, but also doesn’t pull any punches. He manages to walk a fine-line, not candy-coating anything, but also not using violence to titillate the reader. This book is recommended reading.
10. Naked by David Sedaris. This was just good, fun, mindless reading that made me laugh out loud several times. Sedaris’ autobiographical accounts have a way of striking a cord in a lot of people. We didn’t all grow up as obsessive-compulsive homosexuals working in apple processing plants, and visiting nudist colonies but, damn, we wished we did after reading this book.
11. Dos and Don’ts: 10 Years of Vice Magazine’s Street Fashion Critiques by Gavin McInnes. Remember when you were young and you thought is was hilariously bad-ass to say “fuck” and write rude words in the snow at Church retreats? Well, Gavin McInnes is the guy who never really stopped being like that and decided to make a job out of it by taking pictures of people on the street and writing captions about them. Honestly, these critiques crack me up more than most things. However, I should issue a disclaimer: this book does contain nudity, swearing, and vulgar humour. Unfortunately, due to the work I do, I have become quite desensitised to all of the above. Most Christians, however, have not. And if you are one of those Christians, do not even think about reading this book.

Okay, having covered Eco’s introduction I will now summarise his first chapter. Of the chapters I’ve read so far (I’m about two thirds of the way through) this one was the most difficult to understand the thought progression so I’ll try to break it down as clearly as possible with the hope that I get what Eco is talking about.
[1] Signs
Quick Overview: Because this is a book of semiotics (i.e. the study of signs), Eco begins at the beginning and explains what exactly he understands a ‘sign’ to be. He begins with traditional definitions of signs and explains why such definitions have been called into question [1.1]. He then goes on to summarise several ways in which dictionaries and everyday language talk about ‘sign’ [1.2], and then asks if a sign must be intensional or extensional [1.3]. At this point he examines those who propose that signs should be understood as a linguistic entity [1.4], before looking at the multiple ways in which contemporary scholars have deconstructed the linguistic sign [1.5]. This discussion leads Eco to reexamine the relationship between signs and words [1.6] and he examines how the Greek Stoics began to formulate a solution [1.7] which was then developed by Augustine and later models that unified linguistic theories and semiotic theories [1.8]. It is this approach to signs that has been so vigorously attacked by the scholars in [1.5], and so, in response to this Eco begins to develop his own “instructional model” of signs, which overcomes the dichotomy often posited between signs and semiotics [1.9]. In support of his theory, Eco discusses “strong codes and weak codes [1.10], and looks at abduction and the inferential nature of signs [1.11]. This leads him to his criterion of interpretability, which is basically the thesis of his book [1.12], and he then closes with a few remarks on the relation between sign and subject, which prepares the way for chapter 2 [1.13].
Okay, so that’s all well and good but what the hell does this all mean? I’ll break it down, section be section.
In [1.1], Eco mentions traditional definitions of ‘sign’ which see a sign as “something which stands to somebody for something in some respect or capacity” (Peirce). This is basically a restatement of the classical definitions which understood a sign to be aliquid stat pro aliquo (i.e. “that which is there stands for that which is not”). Thus, as Saussure suggests, a sign is a twofold entity, it is a signifier and a signified. Or, as it is more technically put by Hjelmslev, a sign is a mutual correlation between two functives, the expression-plane (i.e. signifier) and the content-plane (i.e. signified). However, these definitions are undergoing a crisis, and some have thus proclaimed the death of the sign. This is so for a few reasons. The first is because of how ‘sign’ is commonly used, and the second is because of a sustained assault be scholars upon these traditional definitions.
Thus, in [1.2], Eco examines many ways in which dictionaries and everyday language talk about ‘sign’.
The first way sees the sign as a manifest indication from which inferences can be made about something latent. This can occur in two ways: through a synechdochic relationship (i.e. as if the sign were a peripheral manifestation of something which does not appear in its entirety) or through a metonymic relationship (i.e. as if the sign is a visible imprint left by an imprinter on a surface, and the imprint tells us something about the imprinter). The key to this type is an inferential mechanism: it argues that if p then q.
The second way sees signs as a gesture produced with the intention of communication. Here a relation of equivalence is important, not a relation of inference. Thus p is equivalent to q.
The third way sees signs as symbols which represent abstract objects, like logical formulas or diagrams. There are also inferential and iconic or analogical.
The fourth way sees signs as diagrams, or pictures that bear a likeness to that which they represent.
The fifth way sees signs as drawing in an abstract or stylised form. These are also iconic but are arbitrary because they are in a state of catachresis (i.e. the are used in ways that violate the norms of a language community; they are used in the ‘wrong’ context).
The sixth way sees signs as an expression where the aliquid instead of standing for, stands where a certain operation is to be addressed. So this type is instruction. If p now, and if you therefore do z, then you will obtain q.
Therefore, in [1.3], Eco argues that we clearly have too many things that are ‘signs’. In order to overcome this problem we need to ask if signs are an intensional device (i.e. a set of all possible things a word could describe) or an extensional device (i.e. a set of all the actual things a word describes). Are we looking at relationships of equivalence or of inference? How far can this inference be pushed? And what constitutes a sign? The actual phonetic utterance of a word or the lexical model which the word represents?
Eco begins to examine some “elusive solutions” in [1.4]. First, he points to people like Malmberg who argue that the word ‘sign’ only applies to linguistic entities. ‘Symbols’ are these elements which represent something else, while ‘signs’ are reserved for language. However, Eco argues that this approach does not (a) explain to what extent signs are related to symbols; (b) which science should study symbols and which categories should be employed; and (c) the relationship between intension and extension is not clear. Thus, this approach is too problematic.
Second, Eco points to scholars like Harman who break down the traditional definition of a ‘sign’ into three separate theoretical subjects: (1) the theory of the intended meaning; (2) the theory of evidence; and (3) the theory of pictorial depiction. However, this approach is also too problematic because it clashes with the linguistic usage of ‘sign’ which has united these three categories for over 2000 years, and it also clashes with the ‘philosophical instinct’, which realises how inextricably linked intended meaning is with evidence and pictorial depiction.
In [1.5], Eco then goes on to examine further attempts to deconstruct the linguistic sign. Apart from a focus on linguistic signs, all these attempts tend to dissolve the sign into entities of greater or lesser purport.
First, he examines Hjelmslev’s approach which distinguishes between signs and figurae. Hjelmslev sees the traditional sign as too large and so he identifies figurae at the content level. Thus, language is not a pure sign system. Language is a system of figurae that are used to construct signs. However, this approach is problematic because it does not account for signs that cannot be broken down into multiple figurae.
Second, scholars like Buyssens argue that the sign is to small and the semantic unit is the seme (i.e. the sentence). This shifts the focus from language as a system of signification to language as a process of communication, but it is problematic because it divides the two approaches when they should be understood as complementary.
Third, Saussure argues that the elements of the signifier and of the signified are set in a system of oppositions in which there are only differences. The correlation of the content-plane with the expression-plane is also given by a difference. Thus the sign exists by a dialectic of presence and absence. Thus, along the lines of Derrida and (much earlier) Leibniz, the whole sign system dissolves into a network of fractures, and since the presence of one element requires the absence of another the argument is “autophagous” (i.e. self-devouring).
Fourth, Lacan argues that the semiotic chain is merely a chain of signifiers. The signified is continually transformed into a signifier through a process of perpetual substitution. However, this is merely a misunderstanding based on wordplay for, in any given context, there will be a specific signifier, and a specific signified.
Fifth, there is the view of Barthes, Derrida, and Kristeva, that argues that signification occurs exclusively within a given text. Thus, meaning is located solely within a text, and the text alone determines the meaning of a sign. However, this is problematic because texts are always produced within communities and the draw from, and manipulate, signs that pre-existed the text.
Sixth, Kristeva further develops the notion of a sign based on categories of ‘similitude’ and ‘identity’. This is rooted in the notion of equivalence. However, this too is problematic for the equivalence model is a degenerate notion of linguistic signs.
Thus, having highlighted the various assaults on the traditional linguistic ‘sign’, Eco steps back to trace the development of the notion of the linguistic sign, in order to show how these critiques gained plausibility, and in order to then provide his alternative.
In [1.6], Eco looks at the relationship between the ‘sign’ and the ‘word’, beginning with Hippocrates and Parmenides. Initially the term ‘sign’ was not applied to words. Words were names, deceptive representations imposed on objects we think we know, that establish a pseudoequivalence with reality. ‘Signs’ were seen as evidence, inferences about the nature of reality. However, Plato and Aristotle shifted the focus of the discussion and words were examined looking at (a) the difference between the signifier and the signified; and (b) the difference between signification and reference. Signification says what a thing is, reference says that a thing is. Throughout Aristotle’s writings there is a reluctance to use the term sign (semeion) for words; rather, words were seen as symbols, a more neutral term at that time. Aristotle continues to see signs as proofs/evidences, and as such they only apply to words when he talks about words are a proof that one has something in one’s mind to express. He does not equate linguistic symbols with natural signs.
However, in [1.7], Eco examines how the Stoics propel the issue forward. The Stoics do not totally integrate a theory of language and a theory of sign. What they do is create a distinction between expression, content and referent. The expression is the actual articulated sound, the referent is that which the sound refers to, and the content is an incorporeal bridge between the two. It is a lekton (i.e. an ‘expressible’). Signs refer to something immediately evident which leads to some conclusion about the existence of something not immediately evident. As such signs can be commemorative deriving from an association (confirmed by preceding experience) between two events, or they can be indicative pointing to something which has never been evident, and probably never will be. Therefore, for the Stoics the theory of language becomes closely associated with the theory of signs. Signs only emerge insofar as they are rationally expressible through the elements of language, language is articulate inasmuch as it expresses meaningful events, and language thus becomes the primary system through which all other systems are expressed.
Thus in [1.8], Eco looks at how the theory of signs and the theory of language are unified, with the predominance of linguistics. Augustine unites the two theories arguing that signs is the genus while linguistic signs are the species, but overtime the model of the linguistic sign gains dominance and is seen as the semiotic model par excellence. Thus The linguistic model was flattened and crystallised into the form used by the dictionary and by a lot of formal logic which had to fill its empty symbols only for the sake of exemplification. Therefore, the notion of meaning as synonymy gained precedence and lead us to the situation in which we now find ourselves.
Therefore, in [1.9], Eco proposes a way forward — “the instructional model” — which differs from the critiques raised by the deconstructionists. Eco’s solution is that the meaning of a categorematic term (i.e. a term or phrase capable of standing as the subject or [especially] predicate of a proposition) or syncategorematic term (i.e. a term or phrase that cannot stand as the subject or [especially] the predicate of a proposition) is found in a set (a series, a system) of instructions for its possible contextual insertions and for its different semantic outputs in different contexts (all registered by the code). Thus, in this approach the semantic type is the description of the contexts in which the term can be expected to occur. This takes place through inference, and the process of recognising natural-events that generate sign-propositions also relies on this inference. Therefore, there is no difference between first level signification (i.e. signs) and second level signification (i.e. semiotics). The sign only exists because is has been constructed by the discipline which studies it.
Okay, so the meaning of a sign is produced through a contextual code but what is this code? In section [1.10], Eco examines strong and weak codes. This is basically an examination of the epistemological value of if and then within any context. Here Eco draws on Aristotle’s theory of necessary signs and weak signs, and this is tied to the notion of necessary and sufficient causes. A weak sign goes from effect to sufficient cause which, although it carries a degree of necessity, is still too broad and must be narrowed down. However, both diagnostic signs (which go back from the effect to the cause) and prognostic signs (which go form the cause to the possible effects) rely on equally weak causes. Therefore, the conditions of a necessity of a sign are socially determined, according to what codes a culture determines to be strong.
In [1.11], Eco looks at how to look at how cultures develop codes. This usually occurs through “daring inferences” especially through abduction, which is the tentative tracing of a system of signification rules which will allow a sign to acquire meaning. We look to a general frame because all induction (the process of deriving general principles form particular facts or instances) is governed by the coded rules of a broader system. In general there are three types of abduction:
First, there is hypothesis or an overcoded abduction which is when the law seems to be a given. This type relies on presuppositions that occur within the co-textual environment.
Second, there is an undercoded abduction where rules must be selected from a series of equiprobable alternatives.
Third, there is creative abduction in which a brand new explanation is developed (“invented ex nono“).
All of this leads to [1.12] and Eco’s criterion of interpretability which is that substitution (as in aliquid stat pro aliquo) is not only necessary for a sign, the possibility of interpretation is necessary as well. With this criterion we are able to move from the study of specific signs to a study of general semiotics. This is the case because interpreting a sign is to define the portion of the continuum which serves as its vehicle in its relationship with the other portions of the continuum. Thus, interpreting a sign is defining a portion through the use of other portions. Consequently, there is no death of the sign, only the death of signs that are based on equivalence.
Thus, Eco concludes in [1.13] with a comment on signs and subjects. Having rejecting signs premised upon equivalency (or equality/identity) he sees the sign as the locus for the semiosic process, and the instrument through which the subject is endlessly made and remade. And this is important because the map of semiosis, as defined by a given historical stage, tells us who we are and what to think.
Well, that was a mouthful. I doubt anybody will read this.

Well, between reading George Lindbeck and completing a course on sacramental theology, I’ve been doing more and more reading about linguistics and semiotics (the theory and study of signs and symbols, especially as elements of language and other systems of communication). I am currently working on a paper called: “Theology as Presencing: Speaking Religion with George Lindbeck, Martin Heidegger, and Umberto Eco” and as a part of my research I’m reading Umberto Eco’s book, Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language. His work is decidedly dense — particular for those who don’t “speak the language” of language scholars. So, to help me work through this book, I’ve decided to start a series of posts summarising and reflecting on each chapter. That might not be terribly exciting for those who choose to read this blog but I figure if I can present Eco’s material in a way that makes sense to people not interested in this topic then I’m probably getting what he is talking about. So, if you’re interested, let me know what you think (Rivers? I’m counting on you here!). And if you’re not, well, too bad (that probably means everybody but Rivers). Without further ado:
[0] Introduction
Eco begins his book by stating that there tends to be two objects that are focused upon as the object of a general semiotic approach, and these two objects are generally seen as incompatible. They are:
1. The sign/sign-fuction which is a correlation between a signifier and a signified (i.e. between expression and content) and thus an action between pairs.
2. Semiosis which is not an action between pairs, but an action between three subjcts: a sign, its object, and its interpretant.
Eco’s thesis is that these two approaches are not incompatible. In order to defend this he will argue that the semiosic process of interpretation (emphasised by point 2) is actually also at the core of the concept of “sign” (point 1). Eco attacks the notion of signs as immobile or static notions, but argues that our fundamental approach to signs always involves an act of interpretation.
Having laid out his thesis, Eco then lays out some major themes that will be important throughout the book — and which will become more clear when I get to the chapters in which he addresses the individual themes.
Beginning with a basic principle of interpretation that says, “a sign is something by knowing which we know something more” (he is quoting Peirce at this point) and this implies an infinite process of interpretation. However, Eco argues that, although this process may be infinite in theory, any given text does not have an infinite amount of meanings. This is so because, when approached in light of a given topic (i.e. contextually) there is on a limited number of possible meanings. So Eco rejects the notion that there is not true meaning within a text (or, as Valery puts it, “il n’y a pas de vrai sens d’un texts“).
This means that Eco sees contemporary theories of interpretation on a line between two extremes, x and y.
At x are those who see only one possible way of interpreting the text — according to the author’s original intention.
At y are those who see any possible meaning in the text.
Eco is interested in finding a continuum of intermediate positions between these two points. Thus, his focus on context leads him to argue that between x and y stands “a recorded thesaurus of encyclopedic competence, a social storage of world knowledge” and interpretation is implemented and legitimated by this. The notion of interpretation being an act that is accomplished through an appeal to an encyclopedia of world knowledge is crucial to Eco’s thesis, as will become clear in our summary of chapter two.
Eco then goes on to cover some more introductory type material before getting into the body of his book. First, he explains that he is engaged in a philosophy of language because any general semiotics is a philosophy of language, and good philosophies of language are concerned with semiotics (see the definition of “semiotics” I provided above). Second, he makes a distinction between a specific semiotics and a general semiotics.
A specific semiotics is “the grammar of a particular sign system”. Thus, if one views Christianity as a particular kind of language, Christian theology functions as the grammar of that language — i.e. as a specific semiotics (I’m pulling on George Lindbeck’s work in this example). Thus, a specific semiotic is successful if it describes a given field of communicative phenomena as ruled by a specific system of signification. That is to say, a specific semiotic is successful if it forms a coherent worldview. That is why specific semiotics are used to improve, preserve, or destroy cultures. It is also why they are disciplinary, and they can tell which expressions are acceptable (i.e. grammatical) within that worldview. Thus, something can be empirically tested within a specific semiotics. In this regard, it can be said that specific semiotics is a science, because it has clear rules for how it determines the relevance of empirical data.
A general semiotics asks bigger questions: what does it mean to say, to express meanings, to convey ideas, or to mention states of the world? However, general semiotics will always be comparative, and rely on specific semiotics, since they are inescapable because all of us are contextual interpreters of meaning. We can only study and describe language through language. A general semiotics is not a science, but rather a philosophy because it cannot be empirically tested. This is so because philosophical entities only exist to the extent that they have been philosophically posited — that is to say, they are not ’emic’ (internal) definitions of previously recognisable ‘etic’ (external) data. Such concepts only have unity within their philosophical framework. Thus, a general semiotics has explanatory and practical power but cannot be shown to be true in a scientific sense. Yet this is not to say that such concepts are just figments of our imagination, but they cannot be judged for their truth-value, only for their perspicacity.
Okay… that’s it for the introduction. How’d I do? Clear as mud? Are you sitting there wondering why the hell anybody would want to care about this sort of stuff? Should I write more about why I think it’s interesting/important?

I’ve recently been reading a series of bloggers that have been posting what they consider to be “essential” introductory reading for people who want to enter into theological studies. So, I thought I would post a list of my own and, to the best of my ability, I tried to keep it short and easily readable.
1. Is There Meaning In This Text? by Kevin J. VanHoozer. [Hermeneutics]
2. Christian Origins and the Question of God: Part I (The New Testament and the People of God) and Part II (Jesus and the Victory of God) by N.T. Wright. [NT Intro/Gospels]
3. The Theology of Paul the Apostle by James D.G. Dunn. [Paul]
4. Theology of the Old Testament by Walter Brueggemann. [OT]
5. The Nature of Doctrine by George Lindbeck. [Intro to Theology]
6. The Trinity and the Kingdom by Jurgen Moltmann. [Trinity/Doctrine of God]
7. The Shape of the Church to Come by Karl Rahner. [Ecclesiology]
8. On Being a Christian by Hans Kung. [Anthropology?]
9. The Peaceable Kingdom by Stanley Hauerwas. [Ethics]
10. The Story of Christianity by Justo Gonzalez. [History]

Well, this rounds of my first year of keeping track of the books I read. The total number of books I read cover-to-cover in 2005 was 92. I was aiming for 100 but, oh well, maybe next year.
1. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man by Marshall McLuhan. I couldn’t believe that this book was written in the 60s. McLuhan is able to read media (i.e. more than one medium) to a degree that fascinates me, and, consequently, he is able to foresee a lot of things that will take place (and have taken place) in the “electric” age. This book is sort of mind-blowing, both for its scope and the originality of its argument. It is here that McLuhan coins such phrases as “the medium is the message” and terms like “the global village”.
2. Old Testament Ethics for the People of God by Christopher J.H. Wright. I have recently been getting into OT studies (Brueggemann, Dempster, Alter… and hopefully Goldingay next) and so I emailed an OT scholar I know in Toronto to ask for his book recommendations. He highly recommended this book by Wright and, after reading it through, I can understand why. It is safe to say that I have fallen in love with the OT. Wright approaches the OT from three angles simultaneously: theological, social, and economic. Each chapter comes equipped with its own miniature bibliography which is also quite helpful. Very good stuff here.
3. Paul in Fresh Perspective by N.T. Wright. Ah, Tom Wright, you can never do wrong in my eyes. In this book Wright pulls from his previous works and looks forward to his upcoming major volume on Paul — leaving us with all sorts of tantilising hints along the way (for example, Wright suspects that Paul’s “eschatological urgency” is actually his desire to form integrated communities of Jews and Gentiles before Jerusalem falls. For, if those communities were not established beforehand it would be nearly impossible to build them afterward). It is also good to see Tom continuing to develop his thoughts on how Paul and his churches were involved in a political conflict with the pagan empire.
4. Diary of a Country Priest by George Bernanos. Another beautiful story about a humble priest — an excellent chaser to The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene. This novel is grace-filled and humbling. It leaves the reader with a sense of wonder and longing.
5. Knife of Dreams by Robert Jordan. So about 8 years ago I figured I would try out the fantasy genre and so I read a few books in Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. I wasn’t too impressed so I dropped them and forgot about them… until this year. It turns out the series is still going and one of the kids at my work is reading it. So, I began talking about the books to use them as a connection point from which I could build a relationship… smart, eh? Everything was going great until the kid actually bought the latest book in the series, read it through, and then lent it to me. For the sake of our relationship I waded through 800 pages of characters and plot that had (surprise, surprise) completely changed since my last reading in ’97. Oh boy.