Tractatus in Context

The Essential Background for Appreciating Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

James C. Klagge

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781000455229
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Filosofía
• Subtopic: Historia y teoría filosóficas

Ludwig Wittgenstein's brief Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1922) is one of the most important philosophical works of the twentieth century, yet it offers little orientation for the reader. The first-time reader is left wondering what it could be about, and the scholar is left with little guidance for interpretation.

In Tractatus in Context, James C. Klagge presents the vital background necessary for appreciating Wittgenstein's gnomic masterpiece. Tractatus in Context contains the early reactions to the Tractatus, including the initial reviews written in 1922-1924. And while we can't talk with Wittgenstein, we can do the next best thing—hear what he had to say about the Tractatus. Klagge thus presents what Wittgenstein thought about germane issues leading up to his writing the book, in discussions and correspondence with others about his ideas, and what he had to say about the Tractatus after it was written—in letters, lectures and conversations. It offers, you might say, Wittgenstein's own commentary on the book.

Key Features:

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• Illuminates what is at stake in the Tractatus, by providing the views of others that engaged Wittgenstein as he was writing it.
• Includes Wittgenstein's earlier thoughts on ideas in the book as recorded in his notebooks, letters, and conversations as well as his later, retrospective comments on those ideas.
• Draws on new or little-known sources, such as Wittgenstein's coded notebooks, Hermine's notes, Frege's letters, Hänsel's diary, Ramsey's notes, and Skinner's dictations.
• Draws connections between the background context and specific passages in the Tractatus, using a proposition-by-proposition commentary.

1
Prefatory Material

DOI: 10.4324/9781003030072-2

Title: Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

Wittgenstein’s book was originally published in German as a 67-page-long article under the title “Logisch-Philosophische Abhandlung,” which means a treatise or essay on logical philosophy, or philosophy done in a logical way.¹ That title was chosen by Wittgenstein, but he otherwise had no direct involvement in editing this publication.

Since this publication was not easily available, was only in German, and was carelessly edited, a book version, in German and English, was soon published by Kegan Paul under the editorship of C. K. Ogden.² Both the original publication and the book publication came about through the intervention of Bertrand Russell and his assistant, Dorothy Wrinch.³ So Ogden consulted Russell about the title for the book in November of 1921:

I am still a little uneasy about the title and don’t want to feel that we decided in a hurry on Philosophical Logic. If on second thoughts you are satisfied with it, we can go ahead with that. But you might be able to excogitate alternatives that I might submit. Moore’s Spinoza title which he thought obvious and ideal is no use if you feel Wittgenstein wouldn’t like it. I suppose his sub specie aeterni in the last sentences of the book made Moore think the contrary, and several Latin quotes. But as a selling title Philosophical Logic is better, if it conveys the right impression.⁴

Apparently, G. E. Moore had suggested the Latin title “Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus,” modeled on Spinoza’s Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. Yet when Moore’s own collection of papers, Philosophical Studies, was published by Kegan Paul in (presumably early) 1922, an advertisement in the book on the page facing the title page indicates that it forms part of the “International Library of Psychology, Philosophy and Scientific Method,” and under the heading “Volumes already arranged” there appears “Philosophical Logic, by L. Wittgenstein.”⁵

While Wittgenstein was not initially involved in Kegan Paul’s publication plans, he was consulted extensively about the translation into English, and in connection with this, Ogden finally sought Wittgenstein’s advice on the title. Wittgenstein replied in a letter of April 1922:

As to the title I think the Latin one is better than the present title. For although “Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus” isn’t ideal still it has something like the right meaning, whereas “Philosophic Logic” is wrong. In fact I don’t know what it means! There is no such thing as philosophic logic. (Unless one says that as the whole book is nonsense the title might as well be nonsense too.)⁶

And so the book was published with the Latin title.⁷ However, Wittgenstein nevertheless always referred to the book by its original German title in his writings.⁸

Wittgenstein never received any royalties from sales of the Tractatus. In a letter of June 18, 1922, Ogden explained to Wittgenstein that “the expenses of production have been rather heavy.” Wittgenstein then signed an agreement on June 22, which made no provision for royalties.⁹

Author: Ludwig Wittgenstein

When the Tractatus was published, Wittgenstein (April 26, 1889–April 29, 1951) was not known outside of a small circle of philosophers at Cambridge and friends in Vienna. Bertrand Russell offered to write a lengthy Introduction to the work for this very reason.¹⁰ The original publisher, in fact, insisted that the work would only be published with Russell’s Introduction.¹¹

The circumstances surrounding the development and the composition of the Tractatus were extraordinary, as Wittgenstein served in the trenches of the Eastern Front during much of the First World War and spent time in an Italian monastery at a prisoner-of-war camp after its conclusion. A fellow prisoner of war, Franz Parak, upon first meeting Wittgenstein in 1919, described him as follows:

He had a thin face and a noble profile, was of middle height, and, to judge by his figure and general appearance, was not yet thirty years old. His tunic was green and open at the neck, with his shirt collar turned over it. He wore breeches, tucked into puttees. He went bare-headed and his brown hair seemed slightly curly. But the really striking thing about him was his manner of speaking: it conveyed an extraordinary definiteness. There was a characteristic movement of his head too: usually it was bowed, but from time to time he would throw it back and direct his gaze into the distance. This was Ludwig Wittgenstein.¹²

As Ogden was preparing the book for the presses, he drafted a “Note” from the editor. This is in fact published at the front of the 1922 book edition, but originally a draft contained also the following sentence:

It is of interest to recall that the book was largely written during the War on the Austrian front, and was completed while its author was a prisoner of war in an Italian monastery.

At first, Wittgenstein corrected this to read: “… and that its author was subsequently a prisoner of war in Italy.”¹³ Then Ogden deleted the whole sentence, based on Wittgenstein’s reply:

As to your note about the Italian monastery, etc. etc., do as you please; only I can’t for my life see the point of it. Why should the general reviewer know my age? Is it as much as to say: You can’t expect more of a young chap especially when he writes a book in such noise as must have been on the Austrian front? If I knew that the general reviewer believed in astrology I would suggest to print the date and hour of my birth in front of the book that he might set the horoscope for me. (26/IV 1889. 6 p.m.)¹⁴

Clearly, he did not think such information was relevant. However, we will see some ways in which our appreciation of the book is increased by information of this sort. (See especially Chapters 14 and 15 infra.)

Dedication: Dedicated to the memory of my friend David H. Pinsent

David Hume Pinsent (May 24, 1891–May 8, 1918) was a close friend of Wittgenstein’s who died during the war. The two met while at Cambridge in 1912. Pinsent served as a subject in some psychological experiments that Wittgenstein was performing, they bonded over their mutual love of music, and they travelled extensively together—to Iceland and then to Norway.¹⁵

Pinsent was deemed unsuitable for active military service, so instead, he trained as a British test pilot. Wittgenstein, a soldier in the Austro-Hungarian army, savored his correspondence with Pinsent during the war. Pinsent was killed in a flying accident, and Wittgenstein, upon being informed of this, wrote to Pinsent’s mother:

Most honoured, dear, gracious Lady,

Today I received your kind letter with the sad news of David’s death. David was my first and my only friend. I have indeed known many young men of my own age and have been on good terms with some, but only in him did I find a real friend, the hours I spent with him have been the best in my life, he was to me a brother and a friend. Daily I have thought of him and have longed to see him again. God will bless him. If I live to see the end of the war I will come and see you and we will talk of David.

One more thing, I have just finished the philosophic work on which I was already at work at Cambridge. I had always hoped to be able to show it to him sometime, and it will always be connected with him in my mind. I will dedicate it to David’s memory. For he always took great interest in it, and it is to him I owe far the most part of the happy moods which made it possible for me to work … I shall never forget the dear one so long as I live, nor shall I forget you who were nearest to him.

Yours true and thankful,

L.W.¹⁶

While the dedication was already part of the original German publication, Wittgenstein wanted to be sure Pinsent’s mother received a copy of the book, and in June 1922, he wrote to Ogden:

If you will do me a favour however be so kind and try to find out Mrs Fanny Pinsent’s address in Birmingham. She is David Pinsent’s mother to whom I dedicated the book and I must send her a copy. I hope very much you shall be able to find out where she lives and let me know.¹⁷

She eventually got a copy, as indicated in a letter thanking Ogden, and Wittgenstein too received some complimentary copies. In his thanks to Ogden, he wrote: “They really look nice. I wish their contents were half as good as their external appearance.”¹⁸

Motto: … and whatever a man knows, whatever is not mere rumbling and roaring that he has heard, can be said in three words.

Kürnberger

While Kürnberger says “three words [Worten],” this seems to be meant in the nonliteral sense, as in “having the last word.”

The three extant typescripts for the Tractatus indicate that the title and author were to appear on one page, the dedication on a separate page, and the motto was positioned at the top of the next page, followed immediately by the author’s Preface.¹⁹ Yet in correspondence with Ogden about the printing of the book, Wittgenstein indicated that the dedication and the motto would go on a separate page together.²⁰

Ferdinand Kürnberger (1821–1879) was an Austrian writer. He was one of the most influential writers of Viennese literature in the 1860s and 1870s, and he was much discussed in Karl Kraus’s journal Die Fackel, which Wittgenstein read religiously. The motto comes from an essay by Kürnberger titled “Das Denkmalsetzen in der Opposition [Setting Up Monuments in Opposition]”:

If I ask somebody semi-educated: What is the difference between ancient and modern art? He will answer in much confusion: Sir, this question stirs up whole universes of ideas. This is a matter for entire books and university semesters. If, however, I ask somebody thoroughly and entirely educated, I will get the answer: Sir, this can be said in three words. Ancient art issues from the body, modern art issues from the soul. Therefore ancient art was sculptural while modern art is lyrical, musical, in short romantic.

Bravo! Thus, entire universes of ideas, if you are actually in command of them, can be put in a nutshell; and everything one knows, and which is not mere rumbling and roaring from hearsay, can be said in three words. But one more thing;—if that is really the case why do we set up new monuments with such determination? ….

Because we are thoughtless worshipers of the ancients.

Hmm! Not very flattering, but precise. So let us do the thinking for the thoughtless and be the worshipped rather than the worshippers. Let us ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Permissions Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1 Prefatory Material
• 2 The Initial Project
• 3 The World (1–2.063)
• 4 Pictures and Representation (2.1–3.13)
• 5 Language and Representation (3.14–3.328)
• 6 Propositions (3.33–4.0412)
• 7 Language and Applications (4.05–4.26)
• 8 Logic (4.27–5.156)
• 9 Operations and Logic (5.2–5.5352)
• 10 Nonstandard Sentences and Logical Form (5.54–5.5571)
• 11 Subject (5.6–5.642)
• 12 Operations, Mathematics, and Logic (6–6.241)
• 13 Science (6.3–6.372)
• 14 The War
• 15 Value (6.373–7)
• 16 Wittgenstein Looks Back on the Tractatus
• Appendix: Early Reactions to the Tractatus
• Bibliography
• Index