36 Arguments for the Existence of God
This clever novel manages to blend existential ponderings with humor and sharp writing.
Next to Linus, Cass Seltzer may be the most approachable philosopher in pop culture.Skip to next paragraph
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Cass, a college professor at Frankfurter University (a thinly disguised Brandeis), has become an unlikely celebrity. The new atheists were in need of a less unpleasant spokesman, and Cass, “the atheist with a soul,” has become the go-to guy for sound bites. His floppy auburn hair, boyish looks, “and the sweetest, most earnest smile this side of Oral Roberts University” don’t hurt, either.
It’s still January, but 36 Arguments for the Existence of God by Rebecca Newberger Goldstein is without a doubt the funniest work of existential philosophy you’ll read all year.
Thoughtful, witty, and – I cannot stress enough – really entertaining, “36 Arguments” is part campus comedy, part romantic farce, part philosophical treatise. It is also, without question, the smartest kid in class. (Goldstein was a recipient of a MacArthur “genius” grant, and it shows. She includes mathematical proofs, poetry, and snatches of game theory throughout her tale. Sometimes these weigh down the narrative, but its natural buoyancy soon rebounds.)
In a pleasant departure for these strident times, Cass embraces paradox and seems most happy when he is least sure. In an era when opposing sides scream at each other and call it debate, Cass is so genial and accepting a presence that no one would be afraid to sit next to him at a dinner party.
For the prior two decades, Cass had “all but owned the psychology of religion, but only because nobody else wanted it.” He’s an atheist who contemplates the nature of soul. His favorite poem is “Glory Be to God for Dappled Things,” by Gerard Manley Hopkins. (That’s the Reverend Hopkins, for those of you who escaped English lit.) “Sounds like there’s a whole lot more soul than atheism going on in there,” remarks an old girlfriend, Roz, who stops in for a visit after 20 years.
The novel’s title comes from an appendix Seltzer tacked onto his bestseller, “The Varieties of Religious Illusion,” looking at popular arguments people cite as proving God’s existence and rebutting them. His point, which seems to have been lost in the sound bites, was that the “most thorough demolition of these arguments would make little difference to the felt qualities of religious experience.” (Goldstein includes the appendix in the back of the novel.)
Cass looks at the need people have for spiritual experiences in their lives, arguing that a desire for transcendence exists apart from organized religion. In her novel, Goldstein asks: What do you believe in, if you discount the presence of the divine? Her characters, even the most strident atheists, still have faith – some in medical advances, some in romantic love, some in the beauty of a mathematical proof, and some in their own brilliance. (Cass’s ability to wholeheartedly believe in something for which there is no tangible evidence is kind of touching. Take his absolute assurance in the kindness of his ex-wife, a monumentally self-absorbed French poet. “Romantic infatuation can be a form of religious delusion, too,” an older, sheepish Cass tells a friend.)