As
viewers of Lynch’s work, we are frequently invited to decipher plot
through coded messages delivered in the form of characters’ dreams
(or dreamlike experiences), but the example of Cooper reveals that
there are also occasions where Lynch’s characters themselves are
required to examine their dreams as a way of gaining knowledge. This
idea of there being a particular way or, more generally, various ways
that knowledge can be gained is one studied by epistemologists. An
understanding of this area of philosophy will therefore enable us to
gain a deeper understanding of Twin Peaks because it raises an
important epistemological question: Can evidence from dreams
provide human beings with a legitimate way of gaining knowledge?
When
considering this question, it is important to emphasize the
distinction between gaining knowledge of the external world and
gaining knowledge of one’s own mental states. Freud’s work on
dream interpretation reveals how dreams might be understood as
providing us with knowledge about ourselves, but this is not the
central issue in Twin Peaks. Rather, what makes Cooper such an
interesting character, and his method of detection so compelling, is
the fact that dreams appear to provide him with knowledge of the
world outside of his mind. For it seems plausible that dreams might
provide us with knowledge of ourselves, but how dreams are supposed
to provide us with knowledge of the world external to our minds seems
to be a genuine mystery.
Authorities
in a wide range of academic fields study the topic of human
knowledge. It is of interest to psychologists, sociologists,
anthropologists and linguists, to give just a few examples.
Distinctively philosophical questions about human knowledge however
are commonly arranged into those that consider the broadly
metaphysical issue of the precise nature of what we know
and those that consider the broadly epistemological issue
of how we know what we know. Notice that the key words to
identify on each side of this arrangement are what and how:
when we consider the issue of what we know, we are addressing
a question about what knowledge human beings possess or about
what human beings can be truly said to know. The metaphysical
task is generally held to account for the collected body of human
knowledge. The epistemological issue of how we know what we know,
on the other hand, considers how the knowledge possessed
by human beings is acquired: how people come to know—and continue
to know—the things that they know.
The
idea of how we know in a given case of knowledge might be
termed the way of knowing. So in any single instance of a
person’s knowledge—for example, a proposition that the person
knows—analysis of the way of knowing reveals how the person
knows the proposition of which he or she has knowledge. Note that
when I refer to a person’s knowledge, I am exclusively concerned
with what philosophers call propositional knowledge, rather
than practical knowledge. Propositional knowledge, as it is
often put, is knowledge that rather than knowledge how. So
the fact that Cooper knows that Laura Palmer is dead is an
example of his propositional knowledge, whereas the fact that he
knows how to operate the tape-recording machine in his
continual updates to his never-seen assistant Diane is an example of
his practical knowledge. As the contemporary British philosopher
Crispin Wright puts it, propositional knowledge is “knowledge of
truths,” where “truths” simply means
“true propositions,” and so is not the kind of knowledge one
might associate with practical know-how.11
So
how should we understand such ways of knowing, where they pertain
specifically to true propositions like “Laura Palmer is dead”? We
might begin by saying that if a person knows something, then there is
a specific way in which they know. Another contemporary
British philosopher, Quassim Cassam, has a way of articulating this
idea. On his formulation of the issue, a question with regard to how
a person comes to know a given proposition p is “a
question about the source of his knowledge or his route to
the knowledge that p.”12
In
the pilot episode of Twin Peaks, consider how Cooper comes to
know that Laura’s secret boyfriend, James Hurley, was at the picnic
recorded in the home movie. He sees the reflection of his
motorcycle in the camera lens. Consider how Cooper connects Laura’s
murder to that of Teresa Banks (Pamela Gidley). He remembers the
letter inserted under the fingernail in the Banks murder case. Seeing
that p or remembering that p may therefore be specific
ways of knowing that p. This methodological approach
highlights a person’s knowing that p in a specific instance
and, by association, the specific way by which one knows that p.
To
fully explain specific ways of knowing, we might need to understand
how it is possible to gain the kind of knowledge that is
possessed. Questions that ask how a certain kind of knowledge is
possible are epistemological examples of what Cassam calls
“how-possible questions.” Of course, questions of the “how is
it possible?” variety need not apply exclusively to knowledge. It
is feasible to ask, “How is it possible?” on a range of topics.
“How is it possible that Ronette Pulowski (Phoebe Augustine)
managed to escape?” and “How is it possible for Audrey Horne
(Sherilyn Fenn) to work at One-Eyed Jacks?” are examples of
nonepistemological how-possible questions. And, as Cassam observes,
how-possible questions imply an obstacle to the possibility of
the deed in question. So epistemologists may ask how it is possible
to gain a particular kind of knowledge. Of course, there are various
ways of knowing, and there may be many ways to know a single
proposition. We are not limited to just seeing and
remembering. The contemporary American philosopher Alvin
Goldman articulates the point in terms of what he calls “pathways
to knowledge”: “I do not conceive of knowledge as being attained
by just a single pathway, or even a handful of pathways, but by a
wide variety of sometimes independent and sometimes interconnected
pathways. The upshot is that epistemology, by my lights, is not a
narrow subject but a highly rich and diversified subject.”13
Imagine
the many ways that a person might gain knowledge. From the
brain-wracking remembering of Mulholland Dr.’s amnesiac
Rita, to the surreptitious seeing and hearing of Blue Velvet’s
wardrobe spy Jeff rey, accounting for these many pathways is a large
and complex project beyond the scope of any single essay. However,
epistemologists throughout the history of philosophy have invoked the
role of experience in connection with understanding how
knowledge is gained. They argue that whether it is gained in a way
that is either dependent on or independent of experience is of
crucial importance when classifying types of knowledge.14
11.
Crispin Wright, “Intuition, Entitlement and the Epistemology of
Logical Laws,” Dialectica 58, no. 1 (2004): 156. For the
knowledge how/knowledge that distinction, see Gilbert
Ryle, The Concept of Mind (London: Penguin, 2000). For a
recent challenge to this distinction, see Jason Stanley and Timothy
Williamson, “Knowing How,” Journal of Philosophy 98, no. 8
(2001). For general reading on propositions, see Mathew McGrath,
“Propositions,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, May
29, 2007, http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/propositions/.
12.
Quassim Cassam, The Possibility of Knowledge (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2007), 5, my italics.
13.
Alvin I. Goldman, Pathways to Knowledge (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2002), xi.
14.
In fact, this classification in terms of experience is one of the
central issues according to which philosophers have drawn the
traditional distinction between rationalism and empiricism.
For further reading on rationalism, see the writings of Descartes
(1596–1650), Spinoza (1632–1677) and Leibniz (1646–1716). See
Laurence BonJour, In Defense of Pure Reason (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1998); and Christopher Peacocke, The
Realm of Reason (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005) for a
contemporary defense of rationalism. For further reading on
empiricism, see the writings of Locke (1632–1704), Berkeley
(1685–1753), and Hume (1711–1776); and in the twentieth century,
the logical positivists of the Vienna Circle. See A. J. Ayer,
Language, Truth and Logic (London: Penguin, 2001) for a
well-known expression and defense of the logical positivist view.
En
The philosophy of David Lynch, editado por William J. Devlin y
Shai Biderman.
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