Brague 1990 Aristotle Defn Motion

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Graduate Faculty Phllosophy Journal

Volume 13. Number 2

Aristotle's Definition of Motion and

its Ontological Implications

Rellli Brague

1. Definition

Everyone has at least heard the formula by which Aristotle

attempts to define motion: "actuality [entelechyl of the potentially

existing qua existing potentially" (Physics, II!, 20la IOf).* It seems

to me understandable, even inevitable, that one would feel the

greatest perplexity in the face of this definit ion. In the following

pages, it is my sole intention to make this definition as clear as

possible, and, further, to show that it is particularly illuminating

when understood on the basis of Aristotle's presuppositions. In

order to do this, I will confine myself to an examination of the

above-quoted formula, leaving aside the other versions of this

formula the Philosopher has proposed and aJortiori the question of

its relation to the remainder of Aristotle's Physics (as a book) and

physics (as a discipline).Before calling attention to the obscurity, indeed, to the oddness of

the definition's content, a prior and more radical oddness may be

worth mentioning, namely, the one in general which consists in

Translated by Pierre Adler and Laurent d'Ursel.

The first part ("Definition") of this paper is a slightly abbreviated version of a

presentat ion made at a coIloquium (mainly intended for physicists) devoted to

Aristotle's Physics and organized by the Seminaire d'epistemoZogie et d'histoire des

sciences de Z'Universite de Nice. It was held on June 27-29, 1986, at the Universite

de Nice. The event was organized by Franc;ois De Gandt and Pierre Souffrin.

The second part ("Logos") consists of pages 501-509 of Remi Brague's Aristote et Za

question du monde (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1988).

We would like to thank the author, and Pierre Souffrin, the director of th e

Seminaire, as weIl as the PUF for granting us perm ission to publish this translation.

*Translators' note: throughout this paper we have used Hippocrates G. Apostle's

translation of Aristotle's Physics (GrineIl, Iowa: The Peripatetic Press, 1980),

henceforth abbreviated Apostle.



GRADUATE FACULTY PHILOSOPHY JOURNAL

trying to provide a dejinition of motion. A fact belonging to the

history of ideas can draw our attention to the strangeness of the

Aristotelian enterprise: Aristotle apparently had no predecessor in

this domain. 1 Moreover, we may wonder whether he has had any

successor. Of course, I in no way wish to question the legitimacy of

physics posterior to Aristotle: its conquests are too obvious, and its

validity has been confirmed on hundreds of occasions. But we may

wonder whether this physics has ever attempted to dejine motion

and whether it has not been content with the far more fruitful

enterprise which consists in studying its properties and, above all,

those which are measurable-this is precisely what Galileo

proposes in a famous passage. 2 In anyevent, at the end of a quick

and partial search, I could not find anyone who succeeded in

providing adefinition of motion that would meet the following

conditions: a) to be a true definition and not a provisional

characterization; b) to be valid for all the species of motion and not

only, for instance, for local displacements; c) to avoid the circle

consisting in defining motion in terms of itself; d) and to have acertain originality with respect to Aristotle's definition. 3 This

lacuna is a cause of embarrassment only to philosophers.

Physicists, indeed, do not have to trouble themselves with defining

their object. What is more, if we examine the origins of the modern

enterprise of a mathematized physics (and this is exclusively what

we understand today by 'physics'), we see that, at least in the spirit

of its founders, this physics builds itself not only without adefinition of motion, but even in opposition to the only availabledefinition, and that precisely is Aristotle's. In the classical age, it

was good form to mock the definition of motion as the "actuality of

the potentially existing qua existing potentially," and everyonepoked fun at it. However, only the Logique de Port-Royal reveals the

nerve of the critique: "to whom was it [this definition] ever usejul

for explaining any of the properties of motion?"4

The foregoing suggests, I hope, two points: a) instead of speaking

of "the Aristotelian definition of motion," as if there were others,

one should simply speak of the definition of motion, which happens

to have been formulated by Aristotle; and b) the very attempt at

defining motion is not a matter of course, but something rather

strange-so much so that we have to wonder what induced Aristotle

to venture upon such an enterprise.

This is not the place to discuss Aristotle's theory of definition,

because it would lead us too far astray and, more decisively,

2



BRAGUE/ARISTOTLE'S DEFINITION OF MOTION

because this theory explains more how to define in a valid way

than why it is necessary to define in the first place, Le., what is

gained by defining. I am content with noting that the possibility ofdefining attests to a certain consistency on the part of the objectdefined. In defining motion, Aristotle does not endeavor to

construct a concept, but rather to show that the manifest reality of

motion possesses a consistency of its own. His point is not to show

that motion does "exist," that "there is" motion. This is a basic

t ru th that induction suffices to establish and that Aristotle puts a t

the very basis of his enterprise of a physics (I, 2, 185a 12f). He has

rather to show that motion has such a dignity that it deserves to be

spoken of by using the verb 'to be'. In this case, the verb is neitherthe copula of judgment, nor is it used existentially. It designates, ifI may say so, the consistency, rather than the existence, and refers

less to the bare fact than to the well-grounded appearance. If

Aristotle has to display this consistency, this is so owing to its

having been denied-above all by Parmenides. The definition of

motion is thus the positive version of that which the refutat ion of

Eleatism-carried out in book I (chap. 3) of the Physics-

established negatively. It thereby constitutes i ts definitive refuta

tion.

Parmenides of course does not deny that we see things moving,birds flying, trees yellowing, plants growing, etc. His poenl actually

starts with the narration of a journey. To all the th ings we see, he

grants the totality of what we say about them, save one thing,

which he relentlessly denies them: that they are, or that we can say

of the whole show that "i t is." It seems that in his poem Parmenides

uses as a criterion for distinguishing between the real and the

illusory the possibility of saying in the present tense: "(it) is" (esti).

All that which, being as it is in motion, "has been" in the past, or"will be" in the future, is precluded from being the subject of 'it is'until the 'it is' finally secretes, so to speak, its own subject: "that

which is" (to eon), which, as such, can only be immobile.5 Hence,

motion for Parmenides is not worthy of being. In the face of

Eleatism, Aristotle's project is to reintegrate motion into being and,

in order to do so, to sh.ow that it can be defined. This at least is

what lies, it seems to me, in the background ofAristotle's attempt,

for the Philosopher does not make his intention explicit. At any

rate, we can look for a confirmation of this in the specialaccentuation that the verb 'to be' receives in two passages of the

text in which the definition ofmotion occurs, provided that we read

3




them carefully: what Aristotle claims to have established with

his definition at 111, 1, 201b 6, namely, "hoti estin aute," is not "that

this is what a motion is" (Apostle, p. 44), but "that motion is

(indeed)"; the very particular actuality that he praises himself forhaving made visible despite the difficulty of the enterprise, is, at 111,

2, 202a 2f, "endechomenen d'einai," for which Apostle's 'it is

capable of existing' (p. 45) is too weak; I would rather translate: "it

admits of being (indeed)."

The consequence of this ontological rehabilitation ofmotion is an

undisputed fact, which I mention here only as areminder: it is

Aristotle's concern for the elaboration of a knowledge of the

sensible. I am not speaking of a nlathematized science, but rather,more modestly, of a "knowledge," of which science is a species. We

can only know what iso Now, in nature, the beings (or, what is) are

endowed with motion. Therefore, if that which is in motion, or, itsfundamental feature, motion, is not, then there is no knowledge of

nature. Hence, it is critical to grasp what is at stake in Aristotle's

defi11ition. And it is important to situate it correctly: he is not

concerned with the procurement of an instrument allowing arigorous description ofmotion or a derivation of its properties. As amatter of fact, it should be noted that Aristotle does not make much

use of this definition; he recalls it only once (at VIII, 1, 251a 9f). Hisconcern is not "to do physics," but rather to secure the legitimacy of

the entire enterprise of a knowledge of nature by making room formotion within being. 6 Owing to this fact, the Aristotelian definition

of motion is of a piece with the whole project which defines

Aristotelianism.

So far I have tried to bring out the "use" which this definition is

to serve. I now must provide a first idea of what it is meant to

define, namely, motion (kinesis). Since this definition does not

construct its object, it presupposes that we begin by having a senseofwhat 'motion' means. Now, what spontaneously occurs to us does

not coincide with Aristotle's understanding of 'motion' . Accord-ingly, we must make an effort to divest ourselves of our conceptionof motion, which above all is that of a displacement in aspace.

Such a displacement is precisely what the other, post-Aristotelian

definitions have in view. For the Philosopher, on the contrary, localmotion is but one of the forms of motion in general. These forms

are three in number, as manyas there are categories admitting of

the opposition between contraries (Physics, V, 2). The question

whether the coming into and the going out of being (genesis and

4




phthora) , which occur in accordance with substance, should be

added to the three motions according to quality (alloiösis,

alteration), quantity (auxesis and phtisis, growth and corruption),and place (phora, locomotion), is given subtly qualified answers. As

for local motion, Aristotle sometimes ascribes it a certain pride ofplace, that of primacy.7 This does not mean, however, that all theother forms of motion could be reduced to displacement and thatthey would thus be mere epiphenomena of local motion. Nor does it

mean that the Aristotelian phora coincides with the translation

projected by classical physics. In the Aristotelian universe, the term'place' (topos) has a different meaning from the one it has in

classical physics. The "place" in accordance with which the phora

occurs is not a neutral space, but an oriented universe, stretched

between absolute upper and lower parts (respectively, the periphery

and the center of the sphere of the stars), to which bodies striveafter returning, according as they are light or heavy.Thus we will take a first step toward understanding Aristotle's

definition ofmotion only when we place it back into the universe as

the Philosopher conceives it. In order to do this, we must give up

the image of a displacement, of a cursor proceeding between two

points, etc., and we must include in the term 'motion' all thatAristotle sees in it. At issue are all the processes implying a passagefrom one extremity to another. To be sure, this holds oflocalmotion,but just as weIl of alteration, for instance: the autumnalleaf turns

from green to yellow and then to red; its sensible qualitycolor-changes, becomes altered. Generally speaking, motion is pas

sage from one extremity to another, "from something to something"(ek t inos eis ti, V, 1, 224b 1; 225a 1). For astart, we may rely on thischaracterization ofmotion. But this will do only to get started, for it

is one thing to give a description of motion and another to give itsdefinition. 8 We see, of course, that in everymotion there is a progressfrom a pOint of departure to a point of arrival. ButAristotle does notaim only at looking and recording; he seeks to grasp the essence ofmotion, what any definition must express. It is worth noting that,

when he attempts to define motion, Aristotle does not adopt thesame point ofview as the one fromwhichmotion appears as stretchedbetween a beginning and an end.We had to be reminded of these weIl-known facts because nothing

is more tempting than to introduce into the definition itself theidea of passage, which provides a satisfactory description ofwhattakes place when something is in motion. Why not consider the two

5




concepts of potency (or potentiality) and actuality (or activity),which

Aristotleintroduces

to definemotion, as the extremities

between which motion would play? One would then say that motion

is the passage from potency to actuality. When the leaf turns fromgreen to yellow, the yellow coloration, in which the process ofalteration terminates, was indeed "potentially" in the leaf and is

"actually" at the end: the leaf, or rather its color, did proceed frompotency to actuality. This understanding of the definition ofmotion

has not been lacking. Rather, it was in place already as early asAntiquity, and without much hesitat ion, modern commentators

have followed in the footsteps of the Ancients.9

But was this notalready the way Aristotle understood his own definition? He doesnot hesitate to say that "it is the potentially existingwhich proceeds[more literally: walks (badizei)] to actuality" (VIII, 5, 257b 7), or, inspeaking of the light body rising up to its natural place, that "being

a potentiality, it comes into that upper place because it proceeds

towards entelechy (dunamei on, eis entelecheian ion, erchetai

ekei)" (On the Heavens, IV, 3, 311a 4). In motion, potency strivestowards actuality. Why then should we not interpret the Aristote-

lian definition of motion in this way?The answer: because nothing in the text where the definition

occurs (namely, Physics, 111, 1-3) suggests it. Accordingly, it ismethodologically sound to attempt first to understand what the textsays explicitly, and this all the more so because it is obviouslymeant to contain Aristotle's most fully elaborated doctrine on thetopic, the question of the essence ofmotion being treated there in athematic and central way. Moreover, to define motion by nleans ofthe idea of passage amounts to giving a circular definition. Thiswas already noticed at least in the Middle Ages,lo and we arereluctant to attribute such a glaring blunder to Aristotle. Conse-quently, we must try to understand the definition of motion as the

"actuality of the potentially existing qua existing potentially" on itsown.In order to do this, le t us not abandon too quickly the idea of

"passage," which will serve to indicate to us what 'actuality' heremeans. Aristotle does not have in view any manner of random

course, e.g., that of the billiard ball, which was a common exampleto the philosophers of the classical age, but rather a course orientedand directed towards a determinate end. This is revealed by the

examples he most readily examines when the elaboration of hisdefinition is still under way. To be sure, he hastens to generalize his

6




results to any motion, but he does not read the essence of motion

off any motion. On the contrary, and surprisingly, the key examples

he chooses are processes that do not belong to any of the species of

motion distinguished by hirn elsewhere; they rather belong tohuman, technical, productive activity (what he calls poiesis): the

building of a house (1, 201a 16-18, b 8-13) or the making of a

statue (1, 201a 29-34). Although he mentions many sorts of

motion, these processes are the only ones to which he devotes an

analysis. In what sense are motions-or even motions particularly

representative of what Aristotle seeks to define-involved here?

A first answer would be that the builder or the sculptor does set

hirnself into motion: the workers are busy, the maul comes down

upon the chiseI, which sends the chips flying, etc. For Aristotle,

however, these gestures do not constitute the essential aspect ofthe

motion in which they are caught, and which ushers a matter

towards the form it has to take on. As he states it in another

context, albeit regarding the same example drawn from the

handicrafts, what matters is not what happens "when the tool

strikes down (empesontos tou organou)," but the form which the

carpenter seeks to obtain and which is the reason for his striking in

this fashion (De Partibus Animalium, I, 1, 641a 10-14). Both the

craftsman who works, and the architect who gives orders, do so

with this form in view. And to the extent that the architect has a

clearer idea of the completed edifice than the worker, he is in a

sense more at work than the worker. At any rate, the architect is

the one who perceives the true motion at stake here, Le., the

motion whereby the house becomes itself, behind the manifoldactivities of those who work towards its coming into itself. In this

sense, we find a good Aristotelian, for example, in the waiter who

answers, "It's on the way!" to someone ordering a sandwich: hedoes not mean thereby that he will yet quicken his hurried

behavior, but that the process which will end up in something

consumable is already underway-even when he has not gone past

merely having the idea of a sandwich present to his soul. He is a

good Aristotelian in that he grasps that the true motion is the wayin which a piece of matter takes on the shape of a sandwich,

receives the form owing to which the bread and the harn deserve tobe called by that name. In this example, as in those adduced by

Aristotle, motion is nothing but the process which leads to, andreceives i ts meaning from, a final, stable state.

This is the kind of process which, in Aristotle's view, deserves the

7




name ofmotion. In contrast, processes not oriented toward an end,

such as those encountered in the realm of local motions (considerBrownian motion), would have no place in the Aristotelian

universe. Aristotle has in sight above all the processes which end in

a final, clearly identifiable state-the growth ofliving things toward

adulthood, the recovery of health, the making of an object,etc. -and he considers local displacements in such a way that they

lend themselves to being analyzed from the point of view of an end:

the motion of heavy bodies toward the natural place where they are

at rest, the path from a point of departure to a point of arrival. The

end captures the process leading to it and turns it into a totalitythat cannot be decomposed into parts without losing its meaning.

Aristotle designates this final state by means of two terms,

'energeia' and 'entelecheia'. These are also the two terms with

which he defines the motion leading to this final state. It is thus of

importance to take a closer look at them and to attempt to gobehind their usual translations. As a matter of fact, only the first

one has been translated in the history of the Aristotelian tradition,

since the second one, 'entelecheia', has simply been transcribed by

'entelechy'. 'Energeia' (and sometimes 'entelecheia') is at timestranslated by 'activity', the English limiting itself to transcribing

the Latin 'activitas'. This is not the place to quest ion the overalllegitimacy of this translation. l l However, it may be noted that

where it is a matter of making the Aristotelian definition ofmotion

comprehensible and even acceptable, this translation is a particu

larly infelicitous one. Indeed, what we usually understand by

'activity' retains from the etymology of the Latin 'actus' (from the

verb 'agere', to push ahead, e.g., a herd) and from its original

meaning (walking, movement, impulse) an unavoidable link with

the idea that is precisely to be defined, namely, motion. Our verb 'to

act' immediately evokes a motion. An inactive person is blamed for"remaining motionless," even when the action required of hirn or

her is metaphorical, as when adecision is to be made. For us, to

speak of activity is already to speak of motion. Hence, our

uneasiness with adefinition of motion such as "activity of the

potentially existing qua existing potentially": is this not circular?

One way to avoid the circle is to step back from the Latin and

English translations to the corresponding Greek terms. These are

two in number; we said: 'entelecheia' and 'energeia'. When

Aristotle formulates his definition ofmotion, he seems to prefer the

first one (1, 201a 11,17,28,30,33; 201b 5; 2, 202a 7; 3, 202b 5),

8




but he feeIs no. hindrance in referring to motion as energeia (1,

201b 9; the authent icity of Metaphysics, Kappa, 9, 1065b 9 is

disputed; and see 2, 201b 31; 202a 2). Are we to suppose that each

of these terms has a specific nuance? There is no doubt that their

formation suggests this, whatever the precise way in which it is to

be conceived12 : the notion of energeia comprises the idea of "work,

result of work" (ergon), while the notion of entelecheia includes

that of "completion, perfection" (telos). Moreover, Aristotle explicitly

acknowledges, although in unfortunately very obscure passages,

that both terms are not absolutely synonymous (Metaphysics,

Theta, 3, 1047a 30f; 8, 1050a 22f). Accordingly, a specific use has

been reserved for each of the two terms: in comparison with

'entelecheia', 'energeia' is supposed to represent a less completed

stage in the evolution of a process toward its fuH unfolding. 13 Imust

confess that I am rather skeptical about these attempts, for even if

the words do have different roots, theyare used interchangeably.

Furthermore, the underlying idea is the same in both cases-not

"action," but the fact of being at work, in contrast with the fact of

being "on site," which could translate 'dunamis' (potency). To be at

work, in th is case, is not to engage in an activity; or, rather, it is so

only to the extent that the activity is above all that which reveals me

as the one I am. In such a case, the activity is not necessarily

"animated": what I am may appear more distinctly while I am at

rest than during the exercise of a capacity. Hence, it is not absurd

for Aristotle to speak of an "activity of immobili ty (energeia

akinesias)" (Nicomachean Eth ics, VII, 14, 1154b 27). Conse-

quently, we need a concept of energeia wide enough to include both

the mobile and the immobile modes of presenting oneself. It doeshappen that things present themselves as what they are through

the exercise of an activity, but it may also happen that thispresentation does not require such an exercise. Such is the case

with an exanlple of definition quoted, and approved 0[ , byAristotle,

because this example clearly shows how in adefinition one element

corresponds to matter, thereby to potency, and another to form,

thus to actuality: the luH is the stiHness of the wind, the calm is the

evenness of the surface of the sea. In such phenomena, the

"activity" is precisely the immobility: the winds, or the water of the

sea, do not "do" anything, but they present themselves under a

certain aspect (Metaphysics, Eta, 2, 1043a 22-26). To be sure,such examples represent only a limiting case. But they force us to

conceive of energeia in such a way that it may include them: in

9




other words, they force us to conceive of it as the fact of a

phenomenon's presenting itself as what it isoThis captures the concept of actuality at work in the Aristotelian

definition of motion and in the examples meant to show its

legitimacy. Actuality is actuality of a potency, to take up again the

traditional equivalents of dunamis and energeia. When Aristotle

writes that "[blronze is potentially astatue" (1, 201a 29), he nei ther

means that bronze unfolds a force (a notion conveyed by our word

'dynamism'), nor that it may become astatue , but that it is suited

to becoming astatue, provided that a sculptor is able to see this

capacity in it. If the sculptor does, the actuality of the bronze will bethe statue, once the statue is sculpted. Vsing the terms of the other

example, we say that the actuality of the building materials will be

the bui lt house. What then does the bronze-or the bricks, planks,

etc. -"do"? They do nothing but fully manifest themselves as what

theyare. They do it even more distinctly than when they were either

a formless block or piled up on the building site. At that earlier

time, they exhibited only a blurred, because temporary, aspect:

planks, for instance, are in transit between the tree from which

they have been wrested by the saw and, say, the frame. They areonly "wood," a piece of pure matter, disfigured and awaiting the

configuration the art of the carpenter will confer upon it. Matter

(which Aristotle hardly ever separates from the "material(s)")appears in broad light only through the form it receives. The grain

of the stone or the wood and the diaphaneity of the glass truly

appear only when they are used for sheltering against bad weather,

supporting the walking person, or stopping the rain and letting the

eyes look through. In those cases, they "do their work" (ergon), in

the sense that they "do" nothing but be themselves. In so "doing,"they manifest what makes them suited to being a house, that is,their hardness, their polish, their transparency, etc. Therefore, and

in th is sense, the house is indeed the actuality of its materials; the

materials are the house in potency; the house is the actuality of its

materials in potency.

Now where are we to find motion as it is defined byAristotle? It is

also actuality. An easyanswer would be to understand the "activity"

(energeia) at stake here as actualization and not as actuality-as

process and not as result. However, this would amount to a circulardefinition: motion would be defined as the motion whereby apotency actualizes itself. Moreover, one would then have to assume

that Aristotle is guilty of having seriously confused two accepta-

10




tions of the same term, 'energeia', whereas he uses it in a passage

in which he distinguishes between the actuality which is motion

and the actualitywhich is not (1, 201a 28,30). It is thus preferableto keep the same meaning for 'energeia' and not to see it as

denoting a process. 14 Of what is motion the actuality? It must be of

a potency. Again, a temptation arises to understand the potency

whose motion is actuality, as the capacity for becoming the result of

motion: e.g., the building of the house would be the actuality of the

materials' capacity for being asserrLbled into a house, that is, for

being built. In this case, building is the realization of the possibility

of building. We again end up with a circular characterization.

Hence, actuality must be conceived of as the actuality of a

potentiality to be, and not to become, the result. 15

If this is the case, we have only to try to understand the qualifier

added byAristotle in order to distinguish between the actuality that

motion is and the actuality as presence of the completed result.

Motion, he adds whenever he formulates his definition, is tl1.e

"actuality of the potentially existing qua existing potentially." The

house, we said, is the actuality of a potency, namely, of the fact thatits materials are suited to being a house. The house, however, is not

the actuality of this potency qua potency. Aristotle stresses this

twice, once in the example of the statue (1, 201a 29-31) and then

again in that of the house (1, 201b 10-13): the actuality of the

bronze qua bronze is not motion. This actuality is nothing but the

statue. Similarly, the actuality of the limestone and of the wood is

the house. Neither the sta tue nor the house are motion. They are

rather its result and, as such, they are the place where motion

ceases.The matter, however, requires a closer inspection: is the

actuality, which the house and the statue are, the one of the

materials qua materia ls? In order to grasp the materials qua

materials, a merely perceptual gaze, one which would see stones

and planks, is not enough. They must yet be seen as materials. The

materials are not merely stones and planks; of course, they are that,

but fo r something, namely, for the result of .the making. The

material of the house is not merely stone; it is the stone neededfor

the building of this house. It comprises, as it were, an orientation

toward the result of the building process in which it is involved. The

stone becomes construction material and the wood becomes timber

only if considered as suited to becoming a wall or a frame. This fact

of "considering as suited to ..." is not a function of a perceptual

11




grasping: ifwe look at the parpens piled up on the building site or

at the block of bronze, nothing about them manifests that they aresuited to being a house or astatue; examine them for hours as wemight, the capacity for being assembled into a house, or for being

made into astatue, is not a property of tl'le marble or the stones

that we could ascertain in the same way as we perceive their

hardness, grain or color. Aristotle speaks of the materials

considered as such in terms of "the buildable" (1, 201a 16, b Bf),

coining an adjective whose suffix expresses capacity (what he calls

dunamis). This capacity, as we have seen, cannot be grasped after

the manner of that with which perception provides us (color,hardness, etc.); it requires a gaze capable ofprobing more deeply, ofproceeding from the real to the possible-as when Michelangelo

"sees" a David in the formless block abandoned by other sculptors.

W h ~ r e can we grasp the buildable as such? Not in the materials,

as we just said, as long as we see in them nothing but stone or

bronze. Nor in the final product: stare at the completed house as

one might, again, nothing in it will point to something like a

possibility. What the qui te real and visible assemblage of materials

conceals from us is theircapacity

for fornling a house. Reality has,so to speak, soaked up the possibility, as in Georges Braque's sense

that for the painter , " the painting is over when it has erased the

idea." Hence, the buildable will appear as such only in between the

point of departure (the materials as stone or bronze) and the point

of arrival ( the house or the statue), and it will be neither of these

two points. This in-between is motion. The capacitymanifests itself

as such in motion: the very building of the house reveals the stones'and the planks' capacity for forming a house; when the sculptor is

working, the bronze is seen as suitable for being a statue. Motion,thus, is indeed the manifestation of the capacity as such, or, to take

up again the received equivalents of the Aristotelian concepts, "the

actuality of the potentially existing qua existing potentially."

We are thus led to ascertain that the Aristotelian definition of

motion perfectly expresses the object which it meant to elucidate.

This object is not motion as it may be descnbed, but motion of

which adefinition seeks to saywhat it is, what its mode of being iso

Looked at from that point of view, the definition put forth by

Aristotle must be said not only to avoid the circular character often

exhibited in this domain and to be obscure only when divorced

from the perspective which endows it with its sense, but also to

constitute an extraordinary speculative achievement.

12




2. Logos

Reflecting on the definition he has just set forth, Aristotle pointsout that from the very beginning his enterprise runs up against a

major difficulty: how is one to define (horizein) that which precisely

counts as indefinite (aoriston, 2, 201b 24-28)? What is indefinite

resis ts any description that would attempt to define limits that it

does not have. Showing himself indulgent (which he seldom does),

Aristotle notes that this is so not because of the failings of his

predecessors, but rather because of motion's very nature. He

formulates the difficulty by locating motion as an in-between, and

he justifies his definit ion by showing that it is able precisely to

capture motion in its very indefinability. Motion seems to be located

somewhere between potency and actuality: motion cannot be placed

"either under the potentiality or under the actuality of things (oute

eis dunamin tön ontön oute eis energeian)" (201b 28f). The

problem raised is thus clearly that of the ontological status of

motion, of the class of beings to which it belongs. A provisional

solution, it seems to me, is that motion seems to be (dokei) an

incomplete actuality (Bonitz, 391a 38-41). Aristotle specifies

elsewhere that this is the case less because it is itself an imperfect

actuality, than because it is the actuality (and, as such , it is perfect)

ofsomething imperfect (On the Soul, 111, 7, 431a 6f). Tllis imperfect

something (ateles) is the potency such that, far from being

absorbed by the result (the built house), it is, within motion,

brought to light as such in its very potentiality.

By a process of elimination, Aristotle finally reaches a degree of

precision which seems to me of crucial importance and which, in

my eyes, provides the key to whatever might still be provisional

about the preceding reflections. In the end (leipetai), motion isindeed an actuality, but such as has been stated, Le., "difficult to

grasp by sight but which admits of being (chalepen men idein,

endechomenen d'einai)" (202a 2f).16 We saw above how much

weight the verb 'to be' carries here, which wrests it away from the

platitude all too often attributed to this much-stressed passage:

not only does Aristotle say that motion exists (this, in asense, could

have been granted by Parmenides), but that it fully deserves to be

ascribed being. We may flOW proceed further: this being which falls

to motion is a being which exceeds what we are able to grasp bysight (idein). On the basis of this impossibility of a visual

grasp-and, along with it, of any mode of knowledge connected with

13




the paradigm of sight-we ean understand, I think, in what sense

motion, or the aetuality defining it, is ateles: this aetuality is not

imperfeet or ineomplete in that it would be aetuali ty imperfeetly,but in the sense of not being eaught within an outline (telos) whieh

would make it visually graspable.

As we have seen, the seeond part of the sentenee under

eonsideration establishes that the question raised by Aristotle

eoneerns the mode oJ being of the movable. 17 The very existenee of

Aristotelianism as an alternative to Platonism depends on the

answer to this question: it is nothing less than a new eoneept of

being, wide enough to eneompass the being of the mobile things,

namely, energeia. The whole of Aristotelianism is indeed eharaeter

ized by an effort to widen the eoneept of being beyond the limits

imposed upon it by Plato (or, better, by a "Platonism" whieh

Aristotle eonstruets more or less ad hoc and uses as a foil), and to

enable its integration of physieal nature.

Aristotle does not name the ontologieal model he undertakes to

supersede, exeept perhaps onee in a passage where, dealing with

aetuality (energeia), he notes in passing that it is 11.0t eonfined to

being standing there (huparchein) like a thing (ktema), but that it

has a "beeoming" (gignesthai) (Nicomachean Ethics, IX, 9, 1169b

29f). However, Aristotle does not elaborate on the eoneepts at

issue-the two verbs and what the model of the "thing" (ktema,

what is acquired onee and for all , what is available) means. Now,

the first part of the same sentenee about motion, and about the

diffieulty of grasping it, allows me to eomplete these disereet

remarks about energeia with suggestions about the way of

apprehending it.In my view, indeed, the definition of motion gives us a hint of an

effort-probably an implieit one-not only at departing from adeterminate ontologieal model towards the model designated by the

term 'energeia', but also eoneomitantly at proeeeding from one

model of the relation to being to another more adequate model.Aeeordingly, the model of our aeeess to what is, eorresponds to, and

even implies, the model of what is able to present itself as being.

Aristotle no more names the model of our aeeess to what is in the

manner of energeia than he names the ontologieal model whieh

this new model allows hirn to supersede. It ean, however, be derived

from some indieations. Let us take up again the suggestion made at202a 2f: being (einai) exeeeds the objeetifying grasp (labein, 201b

33), as that grasping finds its eentral paradigm in sight. This grasp

14




is not the criterion of "being," when the lat te r is energeia. Of the

energeia that motion is, we do have an experience (otherwise, we

could not name it), but one which is not a way of "seeing" it. This"seeing" that we are denied whenever energeia is at stake would

precisely be a "fixing" on the part of the gaze, which would

immobilize motion as such.

Aristotle does not name what is given to us in compensation, so

to speak, for this "seeing" which is denied to uso He suggests it ,

however. He does so in an all-important interpolated clause: while

analyzing his central example of the building of a house, he

explains that the motion of building takes place when wha t is in

actuali ty is not simply the material, but the material qua potency,as buildable. He expresses this as follows: "When the buildable,

insoJar as we say it to be such (hei toiouton auto legomen einai),

exists in actuality (entelechy), it is then being built, and this is [the

motion of] bUilding" (201a 16f).18 The sentence which I have

emphasized does nothing but develop and render explicit the 'qua'

(hei toiouton) which occurs a few lines above (at a 11) in the

definition put forth by Aristotle. I give it its fullest sense, Le., the

sense as it is const ituted within the syntactic structure of the

sentence: the 'qua' (hei) is constituted in and through a predication

by which we say (legomen) that the buildable (subject = auto) is

(copula = einai) such, that is to say, buildable (predicate =

toiouton).

Our gaze sees what is buildable (the materials, that is) because it

appears to us in a determinate and graspable form; but the

bui ldable as such-what, in the materials, makes them apt to be

assembled into a building-is not something we could factuallyascertain. It is something that we "say." It belongs to the possible

and not to the real. We grasp the possible as such, and we ascribe toi t something like "being" by means of a logos. If in Aristotle's texts

the definition ofmotion is one of the places (or the place) where the

paradigm of "seeing" is superseded, we now know that it is

superseded in favor of something like "saying." The just-acquired

data are gathered in the following table:

NE, IX, 9, 1169b 29f being ktema

mode of being huparchein

Phys., III grasp

15

idein

(2, 202a 2f)

energeia

gignesthai

legein

(1, 201a, 16)




If this is the case, the Aristotelian definition of motion is one of

the passages where a dimension of "saying"·and of logos discreetlyarises according to which logos is more than the substitute for an

unavailable sight. 19 The logos can also go beyond sight and provide

access to what is on principle inaccessible to sight. This is what

occurs in the case of motion: in it, the paradigm of sight, which

dominates most of Greek thought, encounters the rent (perhaps

the only one) at which it starts becoming undone. Only the logos

can seek in things the dunamis which never gives itself to s ight as

a property on par with the remainder of their predicates. That ablock of marble is a possible David may only be discovered by a

faculty which Aristotle here implicitly calls 'legein' (to say).

This is the point of view we must adopt in order to understand

the logos which comes into play when distinguishing between

being a piece of matter and being a potency (dunamis) is at issue.

Were it impossible to make the distinction, motion could not be

distinguished from the final state towards which it proceeds.

Indeed, whereas the statue is the entelechy of the piece of bronze,

the process leading to the statue (Le., the sculpture as motion) isthe entelechy of the potency which the bronze comprehends and

which makes it apt to be a statue. In one sense, both are the same

thing, for the bronze and its capacity for becoming astatue cannot

be kept apart. Materially, this obviously cannot be done as if there

were two separable things. Nor can it be done by distinguishing

between the relevant and irrelevant properties: the properties which

make the bronze capable of being melted down, of receiving a nice

patina, etc., are properties of the bronze as bronze. However,Aristotle specifies that the bronze and its capacity for being astatuemust not be the same "without qualification and also according to

the logos (haplös kai kata ton logon)" (201a 32f). A logos

must be able to distinguish what appears as one. The logos at playin Aristotle's formula seems to be the crystallization into a noun of

the legein of 201a 16. Not only is the latter not ajudgment, but it is

only a linguistic fact derivatively. It seems that here a distinction

must be made between a predicative logos, which does not reach as

far as sight, but is i ts subst itute, and a non-predicative logos,

which reaches far ther than sight. This logos is not the mere

denomination of the buildable, but that which this denomination

presupposes, namely, the grasping of the possible as such.

Now when does this possible appear as such? Let us return to

Aristotle's example of the building of a house. We see a pile of bricks

16




on a building site. When do they appear as a possible house? Onlywhen they are engaged in the process (motion) that leads to the

completed house. Such is the case when I use them as bricks; such

is not the case, however, when, for instance, I sit on the pile to wipemy brow. The possibility is made manifest in usage only, be it

effective or simulated in imagination. This presence of possibility is

plain whenever I am using something, whenever, that is, I perceive

things as instruments-not only as tools, but as materials as weil. 20

The definit ion of motion holds true for the instrument and for its

use: the lat ter is actuality of potency as such.

This then further corroborates what has been noticed for a long

time, namely, the influence of handicraft activity on the concept of

energeia and the latter's proximity to the concept of chresis, "use"

(see Bonitz, 854b 37f): it is as if the Aristotelian definition of

motion presupposed an understanding of instruments, as if kinesis

were a generalization of chresis and its transposition to physical

realities. Besides, is it really a transposition which is at stake here?

Is the "motion" ofwhich Aristotle speaks in his definition a physical

reality? To be sure , his definition is supposed to hold true for the

four species of motion discriminated by hirn. Still, the only example

which he analyzes, and offwhich he reads his definition ofmotion,

is that of making. And making does not belong to any of the four

species ofmotion; or, if we were to go to the limits of the acceptable,

it m ight be said that it belongs to the species of coming into being

(genesis), which the name 'motion' fits only with difficulty.21 Itmight be that nothing more than a pedagogical priority of art over

nature is involved here; still, one may wonder whether the

definition provided may be applied to anything other than motions

endowed with a telos or directed towards a completion aimed at by

an intention. In particular, does it apply to the motion of the wholeof nature , the revolution of the outernlost sphere?22Making is given pride of place because it is the motion that best

lends i tself to the definition put forth: the telos is clearly visible in

it, and this visibility is the criterion for what fully deserves to

display itself as being. 23 Making brings out the telos even more

distinctly than does natural generation, although Aristotle consid-

ers the lat ter to be the model imitated by art (Bonitz, 758b 49-52).

Granted, the telos is undeniably present in natural generation,

namely, in the adult of a given species, th is adult being in fullpossession of its form. Yet making retains an advantage: in

contrast to generation, it is a process of assembling and not the

17




unfolding of a germ; it is a synthesis, not the enlargement of an

organism related to itself through con-cretion (sumphusis);24 it iscentripetal, not centrifugal. As a result, the form (eidos) which

unifies the materials and endows its components with an

irreducible sense, suddenly appears as it passes over from being

invisible, in the craftsman's imagination, to being visible in its

material concretization. By contrast, when generation is natural, a

form nlerely propagates itself from one individual to another,

without ever leaving the realnl of the visible. The sharpness with

which the artificial form emerges from the invisible results in a

purer manifestation of the possible as such, whereas in naturalgeneration, as in all cyclical processes, this possible (dunamis) is

never more than an entr'acte between two realities which

overshadow it. 25

The first answer to the question of motion, that is, to the

question why there is dunamis, is thus implicitly to be found in the

nature of our presence to the world, as that presence is manifested

by our possessing logos, our abi lity to look for what is not present

beh ind what is present. The logos introduces realities into the

world which arise in it as irreducible totalities, after the fashion of

those totalities which our lives are (and, in this respect, making,

paradoxically enough, is a better analogue of our presence to the

world than the very generation through which we enter it).

However, this first answer, which provides only the ratio cogno-

scendi of motion, clashes with its ratio essendi. The latter is the

second and quite explicit answer given by Aristotle to the question

of motion. The cause of motion, in the end, is nothing but the

motion of the sphere of the stars. The presence of the Whole, the

self-assertion of the universe as it comes back upon itself, takes the

place of the sudden emergence of a whole presence. Thereby, the

cosmological dimension regains the upper hand: the primacy of

actuality over potency is concretely instantiated in the dependence

of all beings upon realities that are always in actuality: the sphere of

the stars and then -probably at the highest stage of Aristotle'sthought-divine thought. But the latter is itself made necessary by

the concern that the ultimate motion is still a motion. 26 Drawing on

a previous analysis,27 I conclude that the fact that there are things

such as mobile beings, Le., the fact that there is something as

such, is once again dependent upon a reality which is not without

bearing analogy to our own facticity.

18




NOTES

1. Simplicius, In Phys., 397 (15 Diels) mentions the almost conlplete silence of

Plato.

2. Galileo Galilei, Discorsi, 111, Opere (F'lorence: Edizione Nationale, 1890-1909),

volume VIII, p. 190.

3. Plotinus intends to give only a provisional characterization, a mere sketch (hös

typö eipen, VI, 3 (44), 22, 3). See his definition in note 9 below. In his

Elementatio Physica, Proclus does not include motion among th e terms he

defines. The Medievals follow in Aristotle's wake. The Stoics (see Stoicorum

Veterum Fragmenta, edited by H. von Armin (Stuttgart: Teubner, 1964; 1905 1) ,

volume 11, pp. 160f), Descartes (Principia Philosophiae, 11, 25), and Kant

(Metaphysical Foundations oJNatural Science, chapter I, Def. 2) define motion

by one of it s species, Le., the former as translation, the latter as change.

4. See J. P. Schobinger, Kommentar zu Pascals Reflexionen über die Geometrie

im Allgemeinen (. .. ) (Basel/Stuttgart: Schwabe Verlag, 1974), p. 276; myemphasis. The author cites texts by Descartes and Pascal, as weIl as the passage

from Logique de Port-Royal, to which I refer here (11, xvi).

5. Here I can only provide an all too brief outline of the interpretat ion of

Parmenides. More can be found in my ar ticle "La vraisemblance du faux"

(Parmenide, Fr. I, 31-32), P. Aubenque ed., Etudes sur Parmenide (Paris: Vrin,

1986), volume 11: Problemes d'interpretation, pp. 44-68.

6. In The Sophist , Plato does concede to motion the digni ty of an ontological

principle...But .is it really physical motion as such which is granted such

dignity?

7. See H. Bonitz, Index Aristotelicus (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsan

stalt, 1955; 1870 1 ) [referred to as Bonitz in the text], 392a 29f, and above all

Physics, VIII, 7, 261a 21. On the problem, see E. Berti, "La suprematie du

mouvement local selon Aristote: ses consequences et ses apories," J. Wiesner

ed., Aristoteles Werk und Wirkung, Paul Moraux gewidmet (BerlinINew York:

Walter De Gruyter, 1985) volume 1: Aristoteles und seine Schule, pp. 123-150.

8. I borrow th e application of this useful distinction from Leo Aryeh Kosman,

"Aristotle's Definition ofMotion," Phronesis XIV (1969), pp. 40-62.

9. At first (see note 3), Plotinus characterizes motion as "the path (hodos) from

potency to that whose potency it is" (VI, 3 (44), 22, 3f). The words 'proodos' and'agoge', which specify 'hodos', attest to th e fact that we are dealing here with th e

ac t of covering and not with th e path that has to be covered. The Greek

commentators, who were all tinged with Neoplatonism, use analogous formulas

(see Themistius, In Phys., 70,7-9 Schenkl; Simplicius, In Phys., 415, 13 Diels;

and Philopon, In Phys., 349, 25 Vitelli). For the Medievals, see Averroes,

Grosseteste, Guillaurne d'Auvergne, etc., who are quoted in A. Maier, "Motus es t

actus entis in potentia...", Zwischen Philosophie und Mechanik, Studien zur

Naturphilosophie der Spätscholastik (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e letteratura,

1958), pp. 20ff; as weIl as Maimonides, The Guide oJ the Perplexed, 11,

Introduction, Proposition 5, and the commentators cited in H. A. Wolfson,

Crescas' Critique oJ Aristotle (Canlbridge: Harvard University Press, 1929), p.522. As for contemporary commentators, suffice it to refer to David Ross's

commentary in his ed ition of th e Physics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1960;

1936 1) , p. 537, concerning 201a 10-11.

19



10.

11 .

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.


To my knowledge, the most ancient author to have noticed this is Avicenna, in

the Shifd', as-Samd' at-tabrt 11, 1, edited by S. Zayed (Cairo: 1983), p. 82. For

the Latin translation of this quotation, see A. Maier, op. cit ., pp. 12f. Al-Färäbi's

commentary on the Physics is lost. Avicenna is followed by Thomas Aquinas, In

Physicam, 111, H, Ss. 284, and by Crescas, Or Adonat, I, i, 5, p. 23, Ferrara

edition [= Wolfson, Crescas' Critique ... op. cit ., p. 234].The translation of 'energeia' by 'actus' is disputed by Heidegger (Vorträge und

Aujsätze (Pfullingen: Neske, 1967) volume I, p. 42 , and Nietzsche (Pfullingen:

Neske, 1961) volume 11, pp. 410ff.), and upheld by Pierre Aubenque in Le

probleme de l'etre chez Aristote (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1962),

p. 441, note 1. Jean Beaufret takes up Heidegger's criticism and develops it in

"ENERGEIA et actus, " Dialogue avec Heidegger, volume 1: Philosophie grecque

(Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1973), pp. 122-145.Before deciding this quest ion, one should have a detailed history of this

translation at one's disposal. The suggestion by J. Lohmann (quoted in ibid., p.

136), which draws attention to the detour by the Arabic j i ' l , is interesting;

however, the translation of 'energeia' by 'actus' anteda tes the thirteenth

century.

On the etymology of entelecheia, see P. Chantraine et ali i , DictionnaIre

etymologique de la langue grecque (Paris: Klincksieck, 1968-1980), p. 352 a,

whose 'enteles echein' is not without echoing the 'entelös echein' already put

for th by Themistius (In de An., 39, 17f Heinze). The parallel with the idea of

perfection, also drawn by Simplicius, will be canonized by the Arabictranslations (by 'kamdl' or 'tamdm'): for this, see R. Walzer, Greek into Arabic,

Essays on Islamic Philosophy (Oxford: Bruno Cassirer, 1962), pp. 95f. One

may think, however, that the idea of "perfection" is not the only one present in

the word, s ince otherwise Aristotle would not have ventured to use an

expression such as 'entelecheia ateles' (Physics, VIII, 5, 257b 8f) without

making an unbearable oxymoron.

See, for instance, H. Bonitz, Aristotelis Metaphysica , Commentarius

(Hildesheim:Georg Olms Verlag, 1960; 1845 1), p. 387.

In understanding energeia as an actuality and not as an actualization, I follow

Aubenque, Le probleme . . ., op cit., pp. 453f; Wolfgang Wieland, Die

aristotelische Physik (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1962), p. 299,note 25; Kosman, op. cit., p. 41; and Sarah Waterlow, Nature, Change, and

Agency in Aristotle's Physics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982), pp. 112f.

See Ernst Tugendhat, TI KATA TINOS. Eine Untersuchung zu Struktur und

Ursprung Aristotelischer Grundbegrif fe (FreiburgIMunich: 1958), p. 93, note

24; and Kosman, op. cit., p. 44.

The sentence is rendered mute in Carteron's French translation (La Physique

(Paris: Les BeIles Lettres, 1961), p. 93) and slightly obfuscated in Apostle's

translation: "An actuality such as we have stated, difficult to grasp but capable

of existing" (Apostle, p. 45). Most of th e time 'energeia' is considered to be the

subject. Without being able to prove this, I wonder whether the parallelism with

201b 33 (where 'chalepon' qualifies the grasping, not of actuality, but ofmotion) would not invite us to construe the subject to be 'kinesis', in such a way

that we would have to translate as follows: motion "is a sort of actuality, but an

actuality such as we have stated, (it is therefore) difficult to grasp by sight...."

20




17. Avicenna saw this most clearly: see op. cit ., p . 82, line 9 (nahw min al-wujud)

[= Latin translation, Maier, op. cit., p. 13 (modus existendi)].

18. Here I translate as Carteron does (op. ci t. , p. 90) and like Apostle: "insofar as itis said to be such" (p. 43), but in disagreement withWaterlow, op. cit.: "insofar

as they are as we have just specified."

19. See Aubenque, Le probleme . . . , op. cit., pp. 114f. For other examples of this

dimension of the logos, one can think of the theory of the dunamis meta logou

at Metaphysics, Theta, 2, or of the usage of the word 'logos' at Nicomachean

Ethics, VI. See R. Brague, Aristote et La question du monde. Essai sur le

contexte cosmologique et anthropologique de l 'ontologie (Paris: Presses

Universitaires de France, 1988), Subsection 20 c, pp. 158ff.

20. Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer, 1963), p. 144, and

Einführung in die Metaphysik (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1953), p. 23. See the

transposition of the Aristotelian definition of motion in Sein und Zeit, op. cit.,p. 145 (regarding the EntwuTj) (on this see R. Brague, "La phenomenologie

comme voie d'acces au monde grec. Note sur la critique de la Vorhandenheit

comme modele ontologique dans la lecture heideggerienne d'Aristote," Jean-Luc

Marion and Guy Planty-Bonjour ed., Phenomenologie et Metaphysique (Paris:

Presses Universitaires de France , 1984) , p. 271. About th e use (chresis) , see

Brague, Aristote ... , op. cit ., Subsection 26, pp. 198ff.

21. Wieland, op. cit., pp. 249f, deserves credit for wondering about this.

22. See Waterlow, op. cit ., pp. 95, 119, 127, note 14; and Harold Chemiss,

Aristotle's Criticism o f Plato and the Academy (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins

Press, 1942), pp. 582f.

23. On the paradigmatic role of making for Greek ontology, see Martin Heidegger,

Gesamtausgabe, volume 24: Die Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie (Frank

furt: Klostermann Verlag, 1975), Subsections 11-12 a, in particular pp. 142f,

147, 149f, 162-165; and Gesamtausgabe, volume 31: Vom Wesen der

menschlichen Freiheit (Frankfurt: Klostermann Verlag, 1982), pp. 69-72. In

my view, however, these texts constitute onlya first approach.

24. Accordingly, we must refuse to follow Friedrich Kaulbach, Der philosophische

Begr if f der Bewegung. Studien zu Aristoteles, Leibniz und Kant (Köln/Graz:

Böhlau, 1965), when, upon having made interesting remarks about phusis as

sumphusis (pp. 13-18), he goes on to propose to extend this concept to

technical objects (p. 20).

25. This is eminently the case with the place-rotation of the sphere of the stars:

Aristotle is forced to reintroduce rather artificially the idea of potency (dunamis)

by isolating such and such point, which he then declares to be potentially with

respect to the place where it is not yet at a given time (see Metaphysics, Theta,

8, 1050b 21).

26. Only in comparison to the Prime Mover as pure actuality does the rotation ofthe

sphere of the stars on itself still appear to be a motion (seeWaterlow, op. cil., pp.

250f, 255). At another level, an analogue to our presence's being necessary for

this rotation's still being a motion can be discemed in Aristotle's apparently

needing the immobility of the earth th at bears us in order to distinguish

between the rotat ionand an

immobility which would suit itjust

asweIl:

see

Joseph Moreau, L'espace et l e temps selon Aristote (Padua: Antenore, 1965), p.

45, responding to Octave Hamelin, Le systeme d'Aristote (Paris: Alcan, 19312),

p. 325, note 1; and Averroes, who already noted this and is quoted by H. R.

21



GRADUATE FACULTI PHILOSOPHY JOURNAL

King, "Aristotle's Theory of Topos," Classical Quarterly 44 (1950), p. 90, note 1.Another example is given by Jean-Marie Le Blond, Logique e t methode chez

Aristote. Etude sur la recherche des principes dans la physique aristoteli-cienne (Paris: Vrin, 1973), p. 394: eelestialloeomotion, whieh is bereft of a goal,

only beeomes a good from the onlooker's point of view.

27. See Brague, Aristote ... , op. e it ., Subseetion 50 d, pp. 446-451.

Translators ' addendum. To make the l as t sen tenee more intelligible, we

translate a seleetion of appropriate lines from the text mentioned in this note:

"... beeause the Prime Mover is thinking of thinking, it is a life. Aristotle's

theology began with the word 'diagöge'; it now ends with the term 'zöe'. The

latter designates not the life whieh eaeh of us leads (preferably ealled 'bios'), but

rather the one whieh we possess when we are alive. When Aristotle attempts to

deseribe the thinking of thinking, he evokes the highest realization of the

phenomenon of life qua being alive: the thinking of thinking is the purest stateof the self-referenee that is eharaeteristie of life, and whieh takes on a different

form at eaeh level of life.... Now, it is as if the 'thinking of thinking' were a

mixture, a sort of eompromise between two human experienees, two

experienees that we have, and as if the thinking of thinking were the projeetion

of this mixture upon a divine bearer. These two experienees are ... those of

thinking and wakefulness.... Our presenee to the world is always aetuality.

. . . As thinking of thinking, Aristotle's god has the permanent aetuality of our

Dasein. . . . God is a thinking whieh, while remaining thinking, would be as

aetual, as unable to eseape aetuality, as life iso ... but it [godl is a Dasein in

whieh the whole presenee t% f the world has beeome presenee to the whole of

that whieh is present as eontent of the world" (ibid., pp. 448-450).

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Brague 1990 Aristotle Defn Motion