Coleridge, Schiller, and Aesthetic Education (review)

Who reads Friedrich Schiller today? With the Aesthetic Education of Man struggling to remain in print in the English-speaking world (at least in the UK, from where I am writing this) it would seem fewer and fewer readers are prepared to engage with (or be educated by) this once influential aestheticization of the world; and as for Marcuse on Schiller, or the young(er) Frederic Jameson on Schiller and Marcuse, they, too, seem to be speaking from another era, an ancient time when the humanist utopian promise could still be taken seriously. Promises are made to be broken, of course, especially the promesse de bonheur, but are we right to feel betrayed by the assorted Schillerians who so passionately raised our hopes, only to fall silent when they were so comprehensively dashed? Perhaps betrayal is putting it too strongly, but the fact remains that we seem to have ended up with a notion of aesthetic education that educates nobody, not even those within art education who need it more than most. But then perhaps the whole notion of aesthetic education as a promise is itself fundamentally flawed, the product of a political reading—the politicization of the aestheticization of the world—that casts the lessons of the aesthetic into the future rather than engaging with the event of the artwork as it erupts in a "now," which is aporetic in the extreme, and thus ill-equipped to radicalize the unradic1al mind or mobilize the immobile.

Clearly, Michael John Kooy reads Schiller today, but, having said that, it is never made entirely clear who he is writing for. Indeed, we may ask, does he have much of an audience at all or is he speaking too long and too late into the vacuum left by the collapse of humanist optimism? His own position is an interesting one, as both a literary theorist and a philosopher; one of the real strengths of the book is Kooy's pursuit of philosophical ideas in the body of Schiller's and Coleridge's dramatic and poetic work, often to good effect, but, to ask the question again, who is listening? Philosophers? Writers? Professional academics or the nonacademic audience that one would assume was always the intended beneficiary of the concept of aesthetic education?

To attempt to think around some of these questions, without necessarily trying to answer them, we might start by considering who the philosophical audience for this book might be. My guess is that the philosophy of education, the subgenre of philosophy that might benefit from an aesthetic education itself, will be largely deaf to the message running through these pages. Long dominated by an ethical, religious, and liberal political agenda, the philosophy of education in its hegemonic Anglo-American guise has never made much room for the aesthetic, particularly in its "continental" radical incarnation—far too woolly, idealist, utopian, far too "arty." So, not much of an outlet here, but, having said that, the recent Anglo-American fascination with the very "continental" notion of Bildung might prove to be a fruitful point of contact, and Kooy does devote some useful pages and a substantial epilogue to a discussion of this thorny subject. There is a problem here, however, in that while Kooy is excellent when thinking through the dissonance between the teleological purposiveness of Schiller's and Coleridge's conceptions of universal history, so important to their notion of aesthetic education as a cultural model, and the very different self-substantiating autonomy of Bildung, he is much less engaged with the more fundamental pedagogical issues that arise within the particularity of the teaching encounter: How is the necessary autonomy of aesthetic education to be taught without thereby jeopardizing that very autonomy? It is at this point that a philosophical audience (one engaged in continental philosophy, that is) might have expected a more thorough account of the deeply problematical relationship between the Schillerian notion of aesthetic education and the aesthetics to be found in Kant's Critique of Judgement, its acknowledged source. This is not...