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David Eck
, December 26, 2006
Reading a book is itself an act of trust: readers trust the writer's judgment even though they are more often than not a stranger. Worthy of our trust for its honesty and humor, Al Lingis's Trust is on the one hand, a travel diary, and, on the other, a subtle provocation. If you are looking for a tightly organized set of examples or events that refer back to a thesis, then you will be disappointed. Trust is not an epic that will reshape modern philosophy, but, for those willing to listen, it will affect one's sense of self and, more importantly, one's sense of others. Trust is more like a letter from a friend than an argument, but, make no mistake about it, Lingis has insights to share and a question to ask his reader.
The value of Al Lingis's writings is not in a clever thesis but in a sense for another's unique attitude toward life, a sense of how curiousity moves Lingis. It's also a hoot. Trust recounts a series of episodes whose fantastic nature is such that they have the reader rechecking the back cover for whether the genre is philosophy or fiction.
Trust is informed by anthropology and philosophy: depending on the chapter, it references figures such as Claude Levi-Strauss, Georges Bataille, and Nietzsche. Yet the book's home is a series of fantastic and obscure lands and people, not the Western intellectual tradition. Good for those wanting to comtemplate moods and attitudes or who want to catch a whisper of some awe-some wonders of the world.
The weakest part of the book is that the reader cannot return to each scene with Lingis. For, as Lingis notes, it is impossible for language to translate the passion concommitant with the chance and corporeality of fleeting moments. While the book may inspire us to pursue our own adventures, it will not, cannot do it for us.
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