Filozofieske, bloge, Esperante

1. Kiel oni difinas sciencfikcion? (Pri Io Ajn, 4 aprilo 2019)

La aŭtoro luktas pri la problemo adekvate difini la ĝenron sciencfikcian. Li dubemas pri la difino en Vikipedio; li ŝatas la difinon de Isaac Asimov. Li mencias la verkon Frankenstein de Mary Shelley, kiun pluraj fakuloj fiksas la unua sciencfikcia verko. Sed min ne kontentigas la konkludojn de la afiŝisto. Mi mem traktis ĉi tiun aferon en mia anglalingva podkasto Science Fiction, Utopia, and the End of Imagination (1) (ĉe 7:30-9:45 min) en mia programaro Studies in a Dying Culture [Studoj pri Mortanta Kulturo, laŭ esprimo de Christopher Caudwell].

2. Theodor Lessing de Dirk Bindmann (Promene, 2 aprilo 2019)

Bindmann raportas, ke li "legis malnovan libron el 1924: Al eterna paco de Immanuel Kant, tradukita de Paul Christaller. (En 2017 aperis nova eldono de Fonto.) Krom la tekston de Kant la libro enhavas ankaŭ biografieton de Kant, kiun verkis Theodor Lessing. Tio estas rimarkinda, ĉar Theodor Lessing en Germanio estis sufiĉe konata filozofo [...]".  Menciataj ankaŭ estas la verkoj de Lessing kontraŭ antisemitismo kaj reakcia germana naciismo. En 1933 Lessing fuĝis al Ĉeĥoslovakio. Tie Lessing "fariĝis la unua viktimo, kiujn nazioj murdis sur teritorio de Ĉeĥoslovakio".

3. Rolf Hochhuth: Humaneco (El „La klasbatalo ne finiĝis“), tradukis Dorothea kaj Hans-Georg Kaiser (cezartradukoj, 11 aprilo 2019)

Kaptis mian atenton ĉi tiu bildo de Theodor W. Adorno (v. nur maŝintradukitan eron en Vikipedio). Bedaŭrinde, Hochhuth malhoneste ligas Adorno kun Himmler, kaj tiu sencerbulo Kaiser same nek komprenas nek volas kompreni Adorno.

Samspece: Rolf Hochhuth: Dubo (el „Antaŭstudoj pri la etologio de la historio)

Hochhuth same miskomprenigas la ideojn de Herbert Marcuse, ankaŭ frankfurtskolano. Oni atentu, ke Hochhuth estas disputata verkisto en Germanio. (V. anglalingve Rolf Hochhuth - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.)

Apenaŭ ekzistas tekstoj en Esperanto de aŭ pri la Frankfurta Skolo. Jen, ekzemple, eseo pri Jürgen Habermas:

• "Komunika Etiko kaj Esperantismo" de Helmut Welger

Bedaŭrinde, mankas ankaŭ sufiĉe da inteligentaj esperantistoj kaj tro abundas frenezuloj.

Boxer, Beetle (5)

The Boxer Beetle web site has disappeared, so here is the best I can give you, from the ghost web: Boxer, Beetle. I reproduce the images below:

John Wilkins & irony (3): Adorno postscript

In my first post on this subject, I mentioned:

"Ironic Serif: A Brief History of Typographic Snark and the Failed Crusade for an Irony Mark" by Maria Popova (Brain Pickings)

As it happens, Popova wrote another piece on punctuation concerning an author who commands a great deal of my attention:

Theodor Adorno on the Art of Punctuation by Maria Popova (Brain Pickings)

Adorno took punctuation very seriously, as evidenced by an essay I have not seen: “Punctuation Marks.”

A translation of it by Shierry Weber Nicholsen was first published in the Summer 1990 issue of the poetry journal The Antioch Review and later included in Jennifer DeVere Brody’s altogether excellent Punctuation: Art, Politics, and Play (public library), the essay explores the “definitive physiognomic status” of each punctuation mark, its uses and abuses in the hands of writers, and how punctuation helps shed light on the relationship between language and music which, as we know, worked in tandem to help humanity evolve.

Popova proceeds to detail Adorno's views. Note that Adorno vehemently objected to punctuating ironic remarks. (Note also that she links to her article on the ironic serif.)

Note that Adorno's essay is discussed in Brody’s Punctuation: Art, Politics, and Play, but it is not reprinted there. Adorno's essay was collected in book form here:

Adorno, Theodor W. “Punctuation Marks,” in Notes to Literature; Volume One, edited by Rolf Tiedemann, translated by Shierry Weber Nicholsen (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991), pp. 91-97.

Konsumismo de protestado

Konsumebla kontestado por la mezaj klasoj de Pierre RIMBERT, Le Monde Diplomatique en Esperanto, majo 2009.

Jen malnova artikolo pri la alimondisma movado, sed ĝi restas interesa pro la koncepto de varigo kaj mezklasigo de kontraŭkapitalismaj, kontraŭsistemaj movadoj. Tio implicas ankaŭ la asimiladon de socia kritiko kaj socia teorio al la kulturindustrio (termino de Theodor Adorno).

Car mi jam blogis pri Paul Nizan, mi citas la jenan referencon, ne nepre por konsenti:

Kiel signo de intelekta distingiĝo, la kapablo supermeti la poron kaj kontraŭon, kontraŭmeti kleran bibliografion (prefere la sian) al politika argumento, eĉ „pensi kontraŭ sin mem”, montras la malemon de parto de la mezaj klasoj partopreni en la tranĉeoj de la socia milito se ne temas pri iliaj propraj interesoj. Tiu sinteno, samtempe kun la emo engaĝiĝi por malproksimaj kaj malavaraj aferoj, troviĝas aparte enradikiĝinta ĉe la artistoj aŭ ĉe la universitatanoj, kiujn Paul Nizan denuncis en 1932 en La gardhundoj.

Krom afiŝoj ĉi-bloge, vidu ankaŭ:

Misio de la Filozofo de Paul Nizan

Boxer, Beetle (4)

Boxer, Beetle has been blurbed as hilarious. I would call it satirical in the extreme, but I haven't been laughing.

There are no redeeming characters in the book. Not only are the fascists obnoxious and stupid, but their would-be victims, the underclass East Ender Jews of London, are primitive and crude. Seth "Sinner" Roach is the crudest of them: a malformed boxer who lives to fight, who hates Jew-haters but has no political perspective, only selfish interest. His bizarre symbiosis with the anti-Semitic fascist entomologist and amateur eugenicist Philip Erskine and their mutual fate is the focal point of the mystery Kevin Broom is trying to solve under extreme duress in the present. As the narrative toggles between tracking down vanished persons and the obscure events of 1936, we descend further and further into the pit.

Erskine not only names a beetle he has bred after Hitler, he receives an effusive letter from Hitler. Sinner becomes a mercenary in a brewing battle in the East End as Mosley's fascists storm the area to confront the Jews, who are poised for battle.

Well, Broom and his kidnapper (and the latter's mysterious boss) finally solve the mystery of the boxer and the beetles, as do we in a flashback to October 1936. Both halves of the story conclude with no justice meted out to the bad guys, no good guys to win or lose, no redemption and no moral. This satiric portrait of degradation and fascism is a brilliantly written tour de force, well worth reading, but don't expect any wisdom to be gotten from it.

What this young man is about I do not know, or if this novel bespeaks a trend in Jewish fiction, but you can learn more about the author and his work at Ned Bauman's web site, which also links to his blog "Oh my god look at its little face!". Bauman, born in 1985, studied philosophy in Cambridge. Make of that what you will. There is also a bibliography for this novel. The references for artificial languages are:

The Artificial Language Movement by Andrew Large (1985)
Esperanto: Language, Literature and Community by Pierre Janton, ed. Humphrey Tonkin (1993)

Boxer, Beetle (3)

In the present (Chapter 12 of Boxer, Beetle) the narrator is kidnapped to Claramore, where the key to the quest is thought to be: an incident suspected to have taken place at a fascist conference in 1936.

Then we are back in 1936, at Claramore, the bizarre estate of the Erskine family. William Erskine, inheritor of the estate, rigged it up with high-tech (for 1936) inventions and gizmos in accordance with his vision of the technological future.

Sinner (Seth Roach) and Philip Erskine arrive for the upcoming conference. Pangaean gets mentioned a few more times (145, 149, 163). Philip's father William reads the son's manuscript and decides to have it bound. Later on as the drama at the household reaches a macabre climax, Erskine--which Erskine I'm not certain--has a morbid fantasy involving the third Pangaean Grammar and Lexicon.

It also bears mentioning that Evelyn, Philip's sister, is an aficionado and composer of atonal music, which she ends up attempting to justify to Sinner (171). I mention this noting that one of the prefatory quotes to the novel comes from Adorno on dissonance.

Chapter 13 (August 1936) teaches us that the entire family and the assembled fascist guests all belong in a looney bin. It's a bizarro Addams Family world, only truly morbid. And each fascist we encounter is crazier than the next; each insists on the peculiarities of his own cobbled together world view, such that none can agree and all end up bickering.

Chapter 14 begins with footman Alex Goodman obsessed with two goals: marrying Evelyn's maid, and securing a "top-class conjugal safety coffin." But that's normal compared to what transpires by the end of Chapter 15, as the insanity at Claramore reaches a climax, in more ways than one.

Boxer, Beetle (2)

In the past two days I have read 11 chapters (133 pages) of Ned Beauman's novel Boxer, Beetle. It's a real page-turner, compelling reading, superbly written, and highly absurdist.

Chapter 10 (Autumn 1881), on which I reported in my previous post on this book, is actually a historical digression from the main two plots. incorporates the real history of artificial languages into the fiction. Erasmus Erskine appears to be the grandfather of Philip Erskine, entomologist, eugenicist, Nazi sympathizer. His main occupation is finding and breeding beetles, until he secures the cooperation of gay, nine-toed Jewish Boxer Seth "Sinner" Roach to serve as a guinea pig for a eugenics experiment. This scenario takes place in Britain in the 1930s.

The other main plot takes place in the present, in which Kevin Broom, a collector of Nazi memorabilia, is sucked into a nefarious intrigue involving the sordid past just described.

At the end of chapter 9, Philip Erskine is forced by his father to leave beetles and boxers be for a time in order to complete another project:

"It was time to write the history of Pangaean--the Erskine dynasty's greatest pride, and greatest embarrassment."

So the chapter on artificial languages, though seemingly out of place, is a historical flashback from the 1930s, and pits not only artificial languages against one another, but anti-Semite against Jew.  Erasmus Erskine, creator of Pangaean, wants to abolish adverbs as well as Jews. In 1881, "on the same day that the Jews were driven out of Fluek, the adverbs were driven out of the English language." Meanwhile, far away in Poland, Seth Roach's grandparents prepare to fight off a pogrom.

Erskine, bigoted and obsessed, makes Pangaean so complicated and difficult, that even he can't master his language.

"He was even forced to consider putting the adverbs back in, but concluded that he had left himself no room for them, on the same day in June 1882 that Sinner's grandfather returned with his wife and daughters to Fluek, where they were told by local officials that, according to Alexander III's new Temporary Regulations, no Jews were allowed to settle in the countryside of Russian Poland."

So they left Fluek and ended up in Bialystok (in real life, the birthplace of Zamenhof, creator of Esperanto), where Sinner's father "was born on the same day that Erskine completed the 998-page first draft of the Pangaean Grammar and Lexicon."

Pangaean, of course, never existed, but the real history of the international language movement, with some historical distortions, serves as the backdrop for the unhappy fate of Pangaean. Erskine opposes Esperanto as a Jewish language, as did Hitler later on, but as fate would have it, Hitler ends up banning Pangaean as well as Esperanto.

Boxer, Beetle

First, here is the web site for the novel Boxer, Beetle.

The novel is prefaced by two quotes. The first is from Jane Jacobs, from her landmark book The Death and Life of Great American Cities. The second:

"Dissonance is the truth about harmony." -- Theodor Adorno, Aesthetic Theory

Who knew?

I don't follow trends in fiction generally, or even in various fictional genres, but I have taken note of several contemporary Jewish novelists who have immersed their imaginations in the cultural environments that would have been familiar to their great grandparents, often incorporating real historical figures, or creating alternate histories. Michael Chabon and Joseph Skibell come immediately to mind.  I suppose then it should not be too surprising that Esperanto and its Eastern European Jewish creator L. L. Zamenhof would appear in this fiction. Ned Bauman's novel, published in 2010, can be added to this list.

Entomologists, eugenicists, Nazis, and a Jewish boxer occupy this scenario. Chapter 10 (Autumn 1881) incorporates the real history of artificial languages into the fiction. Erasmus Erskine insists that in a true philosophical language, ambiguity would be eliminated. There is speculation about an alleged archaeological finding of a legendary ancient advanced civilization and the language its inhabitants would have spoken. Sudre's musical language Solresol is mentioned as is perhaps the oldest recorded example of an artificial language, produced in the 12th century by St. Hildegard. The era of a priori constructed languages is mentioned. In the same era in which pogroms in Eastern Europe are feared on a daily basis, Erskine pursues his project, until in January 1890 Erskine completes "the 998-page first draft of the Pangaean Grammar and Lexicon." Zamenhof's native city of Bialystok is also part of the story.

Erskine's friend Thurlow continues to discourage the project, mentioning Volapuk had already achieved success and was a far superior language than Pangaean and easier to learn. (The irony!) But Erskine is more irritated that someone of his acquaintance, Marcus Amersham, is working on his own artificial language Orba, and has a club devoted to it. Amersham's publications include forms to which the reader can subscribe promising to learn the language if 10 million other people do so. This fictional item is borrowed from real life Zamenhof's initial attempt to promote Esperanto.

Esperanto then makes its appearance: "But by 1901 Pangaean, Orba and Volapuk were all being swept aside by the onrush of Esperanto." A few paraphrased quotes from Zamenhof are adduced to demonstrate Zamenhof's Jewish motivation. Erskine learns about the forthcoming Delegation for
the Adoption of an International Auxiliary Language (which in real life selected the dark horse Ido, resulting in the famous Esperanto-Ido schism),  and is determined to counterpose Pangaean to the Jewish cosmopolitan Esperanto and mold his language accordingly. Erskine, apparently, is an anti-Semite and presumably a non-Jew.

The 1903 Delegation could not gain assent to its authority, and so no new language definitely triumphed. Bauman correctly describes Hitler's animosity to Esperanto and the Nazi extermination of Zamenhof's family, but adds the fictional element that Hitler bans Pangaean as well as Esperanto. To Stalin's real-life persecution of Esperantists is added Stalin's unverified anecdotal inability to learn Esperanto and purely fictional inability to learn the fictional Pangaean.

And now the final SPOILER: Erskine catches Thurlow with his wife, with a book of Orba grammar between them. Devastated, Erskine discards his notes for the third edition of the Pangaean Grammar and Lexicon.  I have deliberately kept this description as dry as possible, because the actual writing is hilarious.

And undoubtedly the balance of this award-nominated novel is equally as entertaining.

Sam Green, Utopia, Esperanto, Adorno

Here is a review of Sam Green's Utopia in Four Movements that I haven't seen before and that presents something different as well:

Hope Against Hope: Utopia in Four Movements by Andrew Lison, Dossier, May 14, 2009.

You don't often see Adorno's name juxtaposed to Esperanto, but the theme is failed utopian dreams and their monstrous side. It's a thoughtful review. I can't help but quip, though: there is Esperanto after Auschwitz.

Adorno & Esperanto? : phonetics, photograph, cinema, phonograph as universal languages

Some interesting metaphorical history here.

For the Record: Adorno on Music in the Age of Its Technological Reproducibility
Thomas Y. Levin
October, Vol. 55. (Winter, 1990), pp. 23-47.

. . . particularly on pp. 35-38, where Esperanto is discussed. See the original text for illustrations.

At first glance there is a striking similarity between Adorno's evocation of a post-lapsarian utopia and the universal language topos that accompanied early cinema. [27] The parallel logic in what one could call the Esperantist conception of the cinema is evident, for example, in D. W. Griffith's claim in a 1921 interview that "A picture is the universal symbol, and a picture that moves is a universal language. Moving pictures, someone suggests, 'might have saved the situation when the Tower of Babel was built.' " [28] Just as cinema was heralded as a transparent, unproblematically accessible (because visual) alternative to national languages, an analogous discourse of democratization and univocal, natural signs accompanied the prehistory and invention of the phonograph. During the first half of the nineteenth century, phonography—defined in the OED as "a system of phonetic shorthand invented by Isaac Pitman in 1837"—was heralded as a "natural method of writing" [29] and was arduously defended by worker's groups as a means of making writing more widely accessible. [30] In the same vein, the "phonautographe," invented by Léon Scott de Martinville in 1857, was an attempt to produce, as the machine's subtitle explained, an "Apparatus for the Self-Registering of the Vibrations of Sound." The resulting "natural stenography" would be, according to the title of Scott's book on the subject, sound writing itself. [31] Illiteracy would thus be eliminated by substituting hearing and speaking for reading and writing. Indeed, one of the most popular uses of the early phonographs—which, one should recall, could both play and record—was acoustic correspondence. The "phono-post" speaking postcards, which one recorded and sent through the mails, made writing superfluous, a fact stressed by advertisements that invited potential users to drop their dictionaries and "Speak! Don't write any more! Listen!"

Unlike the visual Esperanto of the cinema, however, the possibility of universal language held out by the gramophone is just that: only a possibility, a hope. While the traces of the gramophone are just as indexical as the cinematic signifiers, they are not, as Adorno is careful to point out, readily intelligible like photographs. Rather, they are both indexical and enigmatic. In this regard they can claim both of the contradictory qualities of the hieroglyph: "universal" and "immediate" by virtue of their "natural," necessary relation of sign to referent, and also esoteric, recondite and requiring decoding, due to their surface inaccessibility. [32] Phonograph records are, to quote an astonishing early anticipation of Adorno's techno-cryptogrammic characterization, "cabalistic photographs [by means of which] sound can outlive itself, leave a posthumous trace, but in the form of hieroglyphs which not everyone can decipher." [33] Despite their shared millenarian formulations, the universal language rhetoric accompanying early cinema is thus far indeed from the post-Babelian figure employed by Adorno in his recuperation of gramophonic reification by means of what is almost a theology of indexicality. The latter must be located, rather, in a very different tradition: the hieroglyphics of nature articulated in German romanticism and, in particular, as mediated by Walter Benjamin.

___
27. As Miriam Hansen has pointed out, this metaphor of universal language, which was "used by journalists, intellectuals, social workers, clergy, producers, and industrial apologists alike . . . drew on a variety of discourses (Enlightenment, nineteenth-century positivism, Protestant millennialism, the Esperanto movement, and the growing advertising industry) and oscillated accordingly between utopian and totalitarian impulses" (Miriam Hansen, "The Hieroglyph and the Whore: D. W. Griffith's Intolerance," The South Atlantic Quarterly 88 (Spring 1989), p. 362. For more on the universal language discourse in early cinema, see also Hansen's "Universal Language and Democratic Culture: Myths of Origin in Early American Cinema," in Myth and Enlightenment in American Literature: In Honor of Hans-joachim Lang, ed. Dieter Meindl, et al. (Erlangen: Universitätsbund Erlagen-Nürenberg, 1985), pp. 321 -51.

28. D. W. Griffith, "Innovations and Expectations," in Focus on Griffith, ed. Harry M. Geduld (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1971), p. 56.

29. See Pitman's 1840 treatise, Phonography; or, Writing by Sound; Being a Natural Method of Writing, Applicable to all Languages, and a Complete System of Shorthand (London: S. Bagster & Sons, 1840).

30. This accounts for its appearance as a topic of debate at the 1867 congress of the International Worker's Association in Lausanne, a discussion that is summarized in G. Duveau, La Pensée ouvrière sur l'éducation pendant la Révolution et le Second Empire (Paris: Domat-Montchrestien, 1947), pp.115- 16.

31. Edouard-Leon Scott de Martinville, Le Problème de la parole s'écrivant elle-même: La France, l'Amérique (Paris, 1878). Earlier Scott had published a study of stenography entitled Histoire de la Sténographie depuis les temps anciens jusgu'à nos jours (Paris: Ch. Tondeur, 1849).

32. As an early nineteenth-century scholar has pointed out, ancient hieroglyphs were also, in fact, phonographic: "Hieroglyphic characters are either ideographs, that is, representations of ideas, or phonographs, that is, representationsof sounds" (Hincks, On Hieroglyphics, cited in OED

33. Emile Gautier, Le Phonographe: son passé, son présent, son avenir (Paris: Ernest Flammarion, 1905), p. 28. The implication in Gautier's remark that some people might be able to "read" the gramophone record is curiously confirmed by the case of Tim Wilson, a thirty-three-year-old Englishman who made the rounds of British and American talk shows in 1985 demonstrating his particular ability to identify unlabeled records, ostensibly by reading the patterns of the grooves (DPA press release, October 1985).

OK, most of this will be impenetrable gobbledegook to most of you, though it fits in to my research interests. But note that the universal language idea became popular for the first time in the 19th century, and as a master metaphor persisted into the early 20th century. The popular universal interest in a universal language dovetails with various media, symbolic codes, notations, etc. that could function as "universal languages". Of course, people still use the word "Esperanto" neutrally, positively, or pejoratively in a metaphorical sense, but we're in a different era. I wonder if it was the 1930s that killed off this earlier sensibility, both metaphorically as well as literally.

Kulturindustrio detruas

Kontribuaĵo al la teorio pri la amasa konsumado:

LA DEZIRO ASFIKSIATA, AŬ PRI KIAMANIERE LA KULTUR-INDUSTRIO DETRUAS LA INDIVIDUON
de Bernard STIEGLER
Le Monde Diplomatique en Esperanto
http://eo.mondediplo.com/article918.html

[RESUMO:] La superindustria kapitalismo disvolvis siajn teknikojn en tia grado ke milionoj da personoj ĉiutage samtempe kaptas la samajn televidajn, radiajn aŭ lud-terminalajn programerojn. La kultura konsumado, metode amasigata, gravas por la deziroj kaj konscioj. La iluzio pri la triumfo de la individuo stompiĝas, dum la minacoj preciziĝas kontraŭ la intelektaj, amaj kaj estetikaj kapabloj de la homaro.

Mi supozas, ke francdevenaj verkistoj citus unue francajn filozofojn, sed bedaŭrindas, se oni pensas pri la damaĝo instigita de la pseŭdomaldesktraj francaj filozofoj depost 1960, el kiuj la menciita Deleuze estas unu el la precipaj kulpuloj.

La koncepto "kulturindustrio" estas produkto de la Frankfurta Skolo kaj estis unue ellaborata de Theodor Adorno. Prefere legu el tiu skolo.

La eseo mencias la amikon de Adorno, Walter Benjamin, kies memmortigo en 1940 post malsukcesa peno eskapi la faŝistojn hantis Adorno-n dum la cetero de ties vivo.

Edward Bernays, kiu ekzamenis la psikologion de amasmanipulado kiu perfektiĝis en Usono, estas notinda.

Adorno lernis multe dum ekzilo en Usono. Lia takso tamen, ne estis tute negativa: li parolis favore pri siaj spertoj en Usono al germana aŭskultantaro (v. la libron Kritikaj Modeloj), frue en la 1960aj jaroj, mi kredas, sendube motivata de bezono kontraŭi la kontraŭusonajn antaujuĝojn de germana faŝismo (ekz. la nazia filozofo Heidegger).

Kurioza estas la cito de Husserl ĉi-teme. Sed pli bone la originala fenomenologio ol Deleuze & Guattari. La sekva analizo de libidina ekonomio ŝajnas al mi strangaĵo nekonvikiga.

Evidente la eseo respegulas la politikajn cirkonstancojn de Francio. Mi ne konas la aktualan kulturan nek la politikan staton de Francio. Sed la elekto de Sarkozy indikas degeneron, ĉu ne?

Kritiko de la Kultur-Industrio

La Deziro Asfiksiata, aŭ Pri Kiamaniere La Kultur-Industrio Detruas La Individuon de Bernard STIEGLER, Le Monde Diplomatique, Majo 2004

Kultur-industrio estas termino de Theodor Adorno, kaj la pra-eseo tiutema estas ĉapitro de Dialektiko de Enlumiĝo de Adorno & Max Horkheimer. Stiegler pritraktas ankaŭ Husserl kaj aliajn filozofojn.

Miaopinie, ekster la kampo de filozofio de scienco/logiko/matematiko kie ĝi ne kompetentis, la Frankfurta Skolo estas la plej grava filozofia skolo de la 20-a jarcento.

La plej elstara ano de la 2a generacio de la Frankfurta Skolo estas Jürgen Habermas, kies ĉefokupo estas la diskurs-etiko.

Referencoj:
“Komunika Etiko kaj Esperantismo” de Helmut Welger
Derrida kaj Habermas pri terorismo de Giovanna BORRADORI, trad. Vilhelmo Lutermano
The Language of Democracy: Vernacular Or Esperanto?A Comparison between the Multiculturalist and Cosmopolitan Perspectives by Daniele Archibugi