Rural Exceptional Student Talent Opportunities, Resources, & Experiences
SOPHIE'S WORLD
Rural Exceptional Student Talent Opportunities, Resources, & Experiences
SOPHIE'S WORLD
(gr. 8-10)
A novel study of Western Philosophy. This would be great for an independent study or small group study. I used this every year with kids, and they really enjoyed it!
Hello all and welcome to your self-paced introduction to Philosophy via the novel Sophie's World!
You will need to read the novel. There are notes on each chapter in the modules, along with diary entries. Diary entries are in any form you want them to be. Obviously you will need to write your reaction to the questions posed to you; how you do so is totally up to you. Don't want to write? Then you can record via a podcast type scenario or make a movie of yourself. No matter what avenue you choose, the idea is depth of answer! None of these entries can be answered in less than a page. It probably needs to be longer to really get to the depth of what I need from you: think - reflect - then respond . . . then reflect again and revise!
There will be deep dives into philosophers along the way - you will need to do outside research in order to really fulfill the requirements. If you have questions, you will need to schedule an appropriate time to work with your teacher.
Read the instructions carefully - do creative work - learn lots - and have fun!
LINK: If you do not have a copy of the novel, click CLICK HERE to read the book online!
INTRODUCTION
One day fourteen-year-old Sophie Amundsen comes home from school to find in her mailbox two notes, with one question on each: "Who are you?" and "Where does the world come from?" From that irresistible beginning, Sophie becomes obsessed with questions that take her far beyond what she knows of her Norwegian village. Through those letters, she enrolls in a kind of correspondence course, covering Socrates to Sartre, with a mysterious philosopher, while receiving letters addressed to another girl. Who is Hilde? And why does her mail keep turning up? To unravel this riddle, Sophie must use the philosophy she is learning—but the truth turns out to be far more complicated than she could have imagined.
This book is an introduction to Philosophy for students, and each module will do a deeper dive into the philosophical elements the book is introducing us to!
As you progress through this novel you will need to create an interactive timeline of the people and historical events you are reading about. How you create this timeline is entirely up to you - any means necessary.
Requirements:
All philosophers must be included
Locations of where philosophers existed
5 historical happenings of your choice that you think pertain to the philosophers and/or helped them create their views
5 practical things that would exist in the life of Sophie had they lived in that time period (example - what would they be doing daily, school, work, family, etc - the point is to do a deep dive in what life was like for someone their age during that time period).
The most basic philosophical question in this book—the one which provokes all the other ones—is the question of identity. Sophie is a young woman, unsure what kind of adult she’s going to grow up to be. Sophie’s initial impressions of herself are superficial; those of a stereotypical, insecure teenager. Sophie doesn’t seem particularly brilliant, but she’s definitely thoughtful. Gaarder implies that there’s something about being young (still a teenager) that encourages her to immediately question her place in the world.
Diary Entry 1 - Who are you? In your novel diary create an entry that details who you are, what makes you, you? What is your place in the world?
There’s a mysterious, whimsical tone to this novel—we have no idea who’s sending Sophie these letters, or how they could reach her so quickly. It’s interesting that Sophie already has her own special space where she can be alone with her thoughts.
Diary Entry 2 - Where does the world come from? Answer this question for yourself based on your own experiences.
Gaarder has Sophie proceed rather straightforwardly, as he philosophical education generally follows the course of Western history. And before there’s philosophy, it’s suggested, there’s religion. Sophie’s Dad is a mysterious character—an absentee father who seems to care about Sophie, but rarely gets to spend time with her. It’s implied that Sophie’s inquisitiveness about the world is in some ways inspired by her father’s absence; it’s as if Sophie turns to philosophy as a way of counteracting her loneliness.
In this first chapter, Gaarder has introduced us to the important elements of his novel: a girl’s coming-of-age tale; a fantastical, “meta-fictional” work of a story-within-a-story; and a general study of philosophical questions and the history of Western philosophy.
Diary Entry 3 - Who do you think is sending the letters to Sophia and why? Any predictions so far?
Sophie’s traditional education in school doesn’t satisfy her. It teaches her important information about math and history, but it doesn’t make her feel any more confident or any less lonely. Gaarder suggests that philosophy, then, will be Sophie’s true education.
Diary Entry 1 - What has been your true education? Is it what you learn in school? If it is not, where do you learn about life?
Sophie’s introduction to philosophy corresponds perfectly to the sense of frustration she felt in the classroom. School has given Sophie plenty of information but very little wisdom—philosophy (literally the “love of wisdom” in Greek) will satisfy what Sophie feels she’s been missing. (Of course, this isn’t true for everyone, but Gaarder assumes his readers to be of a similar mindset).
Diary entry 2 - Do you have knowledge or wisdom? How do you know? Explain where you got your knowledge and your wisdom!
In this letter, an unknown author spells out the basic “direction” of philosophy, and of Sophie’s education. Sophie will start with profound, mysterious questions about the universe. But in order to make broad conclusions about the universe, she’ll have to focus on the “little things” in life. Once again Gaarder intertwines a rather straightforward lesson with a mysterious, whimsical plot, and thus enriches both aspects of his work.
Predictions - what are the little things Sophie must learn about first? Why do you think the way you do?
Throughout this novel, the plot of the book will mirror the study of philosophy itself—in other words, Sophie won’t just be tangling with the mysteries of philosophy; she’ll also have to solve the concrete mysteries of who’s been sending her letters, and who Hilde is.
Key Passage - "The most important thing for Sophie to keep in mind is that philosophy requires “the faculty of wonder.” As people grow older, they lose their innate sense of wonder—they begin to take the world for granted and focus on smaller, more mundane things. "
This is one of the key passages of the novel—an explanation of the philosophical “attitude” rather than any specific philosophical position. There are many implications of the idea that philosophy is an act of wonder, which the novel will unpack later on. For now, though, it’s important to recognize that philosophy doesn’t just give its students information; it teaches them how to live their lives differently—with a sense of excitement and curiosity.
Diary Entry 3 - What do you still wonder about? Do you take the world for granted - how so - why not? Explain in depth!
Key Passage - "All mortals are born at the very tip of the rabbit's fine hairs, where they are in a position to wonder at the impossibility of the trick. But as they grow older they work themselves ever deeper into the fur. And there they stay."
The letter clarifies its initial point by contrasting a baby’s experience with an adult’s. It’s a common trope of children’s books that adults are dull-minded and unobservant, while children are more open-minded and innocent (The Polar Express, anyone?). That is certainly the case in this novel—Sophie is young, but what she lacks in real-world experience she makes up for with her unique and open sensibility. Sophie will never “burrow,” we can sense—she’ll continue to explore life’s mysteries. Without Sophie’s sense of wonder, this novel wouldn’t get very far at all. Gaarder presents Sophie’s Mom as a kind of foil—an example of what happens to adults when they lose their sense of wonder and curiosity about the world. Mom seems to be rather dull, but Gaarder isn’t too negative or cruel in his presentation of her—she’s just a kind of stereotypically clueless, narrow-minded parent who won’t accept her child’s fantastical experiences.
Diary Entry 4 - Where are you in the rabbit's fur?
As the novel already implied, there’s something of a contrast between religious thinking and philosophical thinking. Religion attempts to explain complicated phenomena by deifying these phenomena—thus, the name of the cause of thunder is “Thor.” This isn’t to say that religion and philosophy can’t coexist, but in most cultures religion always preceded philosophy. It’s comforting to think that the same figure (Thor, Loki, etc.) causes the same events every time—this sense of comfort and order (even when tragic things happen) is the essence of religious thinking. It would be easy to say that the myths of Thor and Freyja are childish and irrelevant to modern thought—but this just isn’t the case. Even though the modern world has science and technology on its side, this novel can’t help but embrace philosophical narratives. Indeed, the novel itself is just one big “myth,” meant to be interpreted metaphorically (Sophie is the archetypal young, immature child; the letter-writer is philosophy personified, etc.). So even though we’ve moved past this particular story, humans continue to understand complex things (like philosophy!) using similar kinds of stories. It’s telling that Sophie doesn’t dismiss the fictions of Norse mythology entirely—even though she doesn’t believe that Thor causes thunder, she recognizes that the story of Thor served a useful purpose for her ancestors thousands of years ago: it satisfied their thirst for understanding.
Diary Entry 1 - What myths have you been told that explain natural phenomena?
Diary Entry 2 - Do you believe that science and growing older squelch your wonderings or curiosity?
Key Passage - "“Is there a basic substance that everything else is made of?”; “Can water turn into wine?”; “How can earth and water produce a live frog?”
One can imagine that an older, less creative person would dismiss these questions—of course it’s impossible for a frog to be made from earth and water. Sophie, on the other hand, finds plausible elements in these ideas, even if she doesn’t exactly believe them. This is an important perspective from which to study the history of philosophy—even if we don’t literally believe a philosopher’s ideas, we can recognize some truth there.
Diary Entry 1 - is there a basic substance that everything is made of? What is it - explain your answer
Whoever is writing these letters has a conscious plan for Sophie’s education. He’s obviously put a lot of thought into teaching Sophie the history of Western philosophy, and this, in turn, becomes a lesson for us, the readers. This passage is important because is establishes one of the guiding principles of Sophie’s education: respect the broad points of philosophical history without embracing their literal truth too enthusiastically. For example, Sophie might disagree with the idea that a fish can grow from nothing but water, but she can also respect the frame of mind that might produce this idea. Sophie has already demonstrated her ability to think in these terms, suggesting that she’ll be a good philosophy student.
Diary Entry 2 - Would you be a good philosophy student - give evidence to back up your claim.
We might find it absurd to think that the world is made out of water—and we might find it absurd that anyone ever believed that this could be the case. But there’s something plausible about the claim, considering that water can be solid, liquid, or gas—even if Thales didn’t have all the information, he was on the right track. One basic trend that we should identify here is that early philosophers believed the world to be made of the same “stuff” in different forms, suggesting that physical differences are illusions.
Parmenides is one of the key philosophers because he distinguishes between sensory impressions and rational ideas. Heraclitus, on the other hand, claims that the world is full of change, even if the change is coming very slowly. Heraclitus shows how easily the belief in God can enter a philosophical system—many of the philosophers of the ancient world, in spite of their stated desire to liberate thinking from religious frames of reference, believed in an all-powerful being—and indeed found that such a being was necessary to explain the universe. One of the liveliest debates of the ancient world concerned the distinction between change and constancy. Philosophers like Parmenides made a basic distinction between what the world “appeared” to be, and what it truly was. In other words, they claimed that experiencing the world in the ordinary way wasn’t good enough for philosophy—one had to rely on wisdom, education, and philosophical training to “truly” understand things. This is practically the philosopher’s motto. This is a history of the ideas of Western philosophy, but this doesn’t mean that it’s an abstract, nebulous story. On the contrary, Sophie’s letters take pains to situate all of the history of philosophy in a real-world environment—thus, we learn that many of the great philosophical achievements of the ancient world were only made possible by the existence of a stable, economically prosperous city like Athens. It’s important that we’re told that Sophie has to reread the letter a few times (there’s no way to convey rereading in a book, but the author wants us to know that it’s okay to read his novel slowly and carefully, backtracking as need be). It’s interesting to see Sophie trying to make sense of so many different thinkers’ ideas so improbably quickly—but of course, the whole novel depends on this kind of fast-forward thinking.
Diary Entry 3 - Which philosopher do you most identify with in the current section and why? What stood out to you about their thoughts? Explain your answer in depth.
It’s not always possible to see where the letters are leading Sophie next, thus creating a little suspense in a story that otherwise could be very dry. From our perspective, the letters’ unanswered questions build a sense of excitement that approximates the sense of wonder that, we’ve already been told, is crucial to philosophy.
Democritus’s ideas are both incredibly modern and thoroughly anachronistic—he coined the term “Atom” but didn’t really describe the atoms that we think of today (for that matter, we’ve only known to a certainty that atoms exist for about 115 years!).We also realize why the letter asked Sophie about Legos—like Legos, atoms are the “building blocks” of the universe.
Democritus may not have been much of a scientist, but his theory of atoms is certainly relevant to the modern world. Furthermore, his idea that the only real “things” are physical objects seems very modern as well—for many, belief in the soul or the spirit has been drowned out by the study of neurology and medicine.
Sophie isn’t willing to commit to any one of the thinkers she reads about. In part, this is because Sophie is a stand-in for the reader: it’s up to us to decide what parts of philosophy we believe in, and therefore Sophie needs to keep an open mind on our behalf.
Sophie is busy trying to understand the mysteries of the universe (“what is the world made from?” for example) but she must also contend with the more personal, concrete mysteries of her own life; i.e., who’s delivering her letters?
The idea of Fate is particularly complicated and prevalent—many people believe in some kind of order or meaning to the universe, whether they acknowledges this or not.
While the nature of being and reality is the crucial philosophical question of the novel, the issue of free will is probably second most important. It’s telling that Sophie’s Mom assumes that Sophie has a boyfriend at school. Mom isn’t the most open-minded thinker, and she seemingly assumes that girls should be more interested in boys than in ideas.
There is finally a real, physical character to attach to these mysterious happenings. Sophie’s quest to answer to catch her mysterious teacher seems even more intriguing than her quest to come to terms with God and Fate.
Part of Gaarder’s project is “meta-fictional”—this is a story about itself, but also one connected to its subject. Thus Sophie and the teacher are meant to meet because it’s been written as such (as we’ll later learn), but this idea of predicting the future also has to do with the philosophical idea of Fate that the characters are discussing.
One could say that thebelief in fate is almost as basic as the belief in a supernatural cause for complex phenomena. Indeed, fate is just another word for this cause, like “God” or “Thor.” Fate can be used to explain anything.
Part of the Greeks’ legacy is that they showed mankind struggling against the gods, and against the force of fate—in other words, they showed human beings exercising (albeit in a limited capacity) their free will. This is a struggle that clearly hasn’t been resolved in modern times, as the stories of Oedipus and others remain relevant and popular. Thucydides and Herodotus, for their part, remain relevant because they showed that larger social and political forces could also be confused with a divine sort of fate.
Even as Sophie learns about Greeks who challenged the authority of the gods and of fate, it begins to seem that Sophie’s own life is dominated by fate—an unseen figure who controls everything.
Sophie doesn’t succeed in meeting her mystery man yet, but she learns his name at least. Little by little, Sophie is making progress with her mystery man—mirroring the progress she’s making in her philosophical education. Notably, this week’s lessons focus less on pseudo-scientific questions (“is the world made of water?”, for example)and more on matters of ethics and morality. As Gaarder continues to show, philosophy is a very broad subject, and not just for ivory tower academics.
As usual, Sophie has some open-minded responses to her questions, but her responses encourage debate rather tothan trying to end it (it’s also worth noting that she’s basically being taught in the Socratic method—named after the famous philosopher Socrates).
The history of Athens is crucial in modern philosophy. Many of the fields of philosophy that we take for granted today, like ethics and epistemology, began in Athens.
Hermes was the messenger god of the Greeks—appropriate for the mail-delivering dog. The Sophists can be said to have focused philosophy less on questions of science and more on matters of politics and day-to-day conduct. By modern standards, this is more or less the direction philosophy has taken ever since: questions about the structure of the universe increasinglynow fall under the umbrella of science, not philosophy. (If “Sophist” sounds similar to “Sophie,” that’s because “sofia” means knowledge or wisdom in Greek—further evidence that Sophie herself is a kind of allegorical character, a stand-in for the reader as philosophy student.)
Socrates is an interesting figure because of his modesty—unlike most intelligent people, he refused to admit how intelligent he was. Paradoxically, Socrates’ very modesty (his refusal to credit himself with any real power or mental ingenuity) made him more, not less, dangerous to the government of Athens. Simply by asking the right questions, Socrates could challenge all sorts of conventional narratives, such as the stories of the Greek gods. (And his teaching method also echoes Alberto’s own.)
This is an important passage because it reiterates the proper philosophical mindset. The idea of being certain about the world, Alberto suggests, is toxic to philosophy: the only wise person is one who acknowledges that he or she knows next to nothing about the world.
Socrates’ legacy was to introduce the study of the Good into philosophy—he argued that philosophy should try to teach people how to live, not just how to study the universe. This is one of the basic assumptions of Sophie’s own education under Alberto.
This is an important letter because it addresses the different ways of studying philosophy. There’s a danger that philosophers can become too self-satisfied and arrogant with their knowledge (like Sophie herself was after her first “lesson”). It’s further suggested that being continually wowed by the world is more important than having specific information about the world—this, in essence, is the difference between Sophie and her Mom.
As Sophie proceeds with her education, the media through which she learns become more advanced: first letters, now videotapes (there were no DVDs back in 1990!). This reflects Sophie’s growing awareness of the world and of herself—she no longer spends so much time in her den, suggesting that she’s becoming more confident and less cloistered.
Sophie’s lessons don’t just get more technologically sophisticated—they get more and more fantastical. It’s not explained (at least not right away) how Alberto has arranged for the city of Athens to be rebuilt from the ruins. There’s a strong element of fantasy and even absurdity running through this book, and it will only get stronger. This helps Gaarder keep things interesting and fun even as he pursues an otherwise heavy subject.
Sophie is a good, intuitive thinker, and she gets to the heart of Alberto’s question right away. Alberto has introduced a somewhat new theme to philosophy—the concept of what is and isn’t perfect. This idea will become important as we study Plato and later the Christian thinkers.
In the Greek philosophers, there’s a strong sense that wisdom doesn’t necessarily correspond to education and knowledge. Especially for Plato and Socrates, it’s implied that the ideal “wise human being” is one who accepts her own lack of knowledge. In this sense, Sophie is an ideal student of philosophy: she has an innate sense of curiosity and wonder that Alberto must try to feed.
For the time being, Sophie lacks the ability to track down Alberto to his home—she’ll have to continue with these secondhand lessons.
Plato continued Socrates’ project of studying morality and reality—in this way, he set the tone for philosophy for the next 2,000 years. Plato further divorces the world of philosophy from the “natural philosophy” practiced by Parmenides and his peers.
The concept of the Platonic forms is one of the most famous ideas in all of philosophy. Interestingly, Plato never produced any entire dialogue or treatise on the forms—our knowledge of this matter is based on excerpts from other dialogues, such as the Republic. The notion of perfection is a powerful one, with obvious religious overtones. And yet unlike the early religious societies, Plato believed that it was possible to get in touch with “perfection” through philosophical thought.
Plato argued for the importance of philosophy by showing how philosophical contemplation could bring human beings closer to the perfect world of the forms—the world of ideas. This concept has some potentially religious overtones, and indeed, later Christian thinkers would argue that Plato was anticipating the concept of “Heaven” when he talked about the world of ideas.
The Allegory of the Cave is a famous passage that has been quoted and referenced hundreds of thousands of times over the years. It also has some undeniable relevance to the plot of Sophie’s World. Sophie is something like the prisoner from the Allegory: she’s “Freed” from her mental prisons by Alberto Knox, and begins to contemplate the “true” world of philosophical investigation. But when Sophie returns to her old home and tries to pass on her education to others, such as her Mom, she’s shocked to find that her Mom dislikes and even ridicules Sophie’s philosophical education.
Plato’s ideas are important to philosophy (and to the structure of this book) for another reason: they establish political philosophy as one of philosophy’s most important branches. The idea that there’s such thing as a perfectly organized society is an appealing one—but obviously we still haven’t figured it out thousands of years later.
Gaarder keeps his lessons from getting too abstract by grounding them in real world issues—like sexism. As we’ll see, even the most “rational” of male philosophers often held irrational views on women. Plato’s ideas, while not exactly feminist, did it least suggest that reason and ideals should be applied to the treatment of the sexes.
Sophie continues to treat her philosophical education with a healthy skepticism. She doesn’t necessarily believe the idea of the forms, at least not literally, but (as with the Norse myths) she finds beauty and even wisdom in this idea.
The book’s fantastical and meta-fictional plot starts to become more central in this chapter, as Sophie actually does more things besides study philosophy. Berkeley, as we’ll learn, is a philosopher whose ideas have particular relevance to this novel. These paintings and the brass mirror will also be important symbols.The mirror acts as a traditional symbol of introspection and self-study, but here it also seems to have something fantastical about it, as Sophie’s reflection winks at her.
The strange coincidences keep adding up. Sophie also continues to find pieces of evidence linking her to Hilde Møller Knag—a girl we still know nothing about. The questions Sophie receives in the mail are becoming more diverse and complicated, reflecting the progress Sophie’s been making in her philosophical education.
In this section, we see Sophie’s Mom at her best and worst. It’s admirable that she cares so much about Sophie’s safety, but there’s also something oddly pathetic about her inability to let Sophie off on her own for even a few hours. Tellingly, Sophie’s mother refuses to even listen when Sophie begins to tell her about her philosopher friend. This is the first the “the Major” is mentioned—but he will be become a crucial figure soon.
Whether or not Sophie literally believes in the Platonic ideal of the soul, she finds comfort and beauty in the ideal. At the same time that she flirts with Plato’s philosophy, she sends playful messages to Alberto, suggesting a fundamental link between the content of Sophie’s lessons and the unorthodox means by which she’s learning these lessons.
Sophie is a good philosophy student who already recognizes the importance of rationalism and deep thought.
There’s a ticking clock in this novel—as Sophie’s birthday gets closer and closer, we get the strong sense that something is about to happen. We don't know exactly what this big event will be, but we also come to think that it’ll bring Sophie closer to a form of enlightenment.
The debate between Aristotle and Plato echoes in philosophy today—it’s been said that all human beings are either Platonists and Aristotelians. Aristotle, with his emphasis on the real, concrete world, is often praised for being the first true scientist. And yet so many of Aristotle’s ideas, as we see in this chapter, are outdated. As is often the case in ancient philosophy, Aristotle’s questions are more interesting to us than his answers.
Aristotle is especially relevant to Sophie, we can see, because he was one of the first theorists of education. He believed that all things carried within them an ability to become something more—much as Sophie seems to carry the potential to become enlightened.
Aristotle’s discussion of the causes is interesting but not entirely relevant to modern life: we don’t really believe that rain is “intended” to irrigate the plants—in fact, we don’t really believe that there’s a correct answer to the question of “why” rain exists at all. In this sense, Aristotle has lost a lot of his credibility as a scientist. And yet as far as philosophers are concerned, he’s still important because of his interest in classifying and categorizing worldly phenomena. The history of philosophy wouldn’t be complete without Aristotle: his categories of causation anticipate the way that philosophers like Hegel and Hume would break down the steps in human perception.
Aristotle’s logic is intuitive and immediately clear to Sophie. This reflects Aristotle’s close attention to classes and categories: even if he didn’t believe in the forms, he maintained that all specific objects belonged to some broader group (in this sense, Aristotle isn’t so different from Plato).
Aristotle’s proof of the existence of God—that there must be a force that sets the world in motion—is influential in Western philosophy for many reasons. The theory was later used to give logical credibility to Christianity, and it also began the philosophical discussion of causation, a theme that later interested Kant and Hume.
Aristotle had a complex program of ethics, and Alberto only has a small amount of time to go over it with Sophie. The overarching idea, here and with Aristotle’s political thinking, is the concept of balance, or the “golden mean”—the best course of action, it would seem, usually aims for a combination of many different kinds of pleasure.
Aristotle is interesting because he doesn’t accept that there’s any single kind of government that’s “best”—each kind has the potential to fail or succeed. In this way, Aristotle helps to challenge the conventional wisdom that kings “deserve” to lead, showing how philosophy can be a way to resist government and authority.
For all his contributions to philosophy, Aristotle’s theories of women seem particularly antiquated by modern standards. And yet this doesn’t mean that we should throw out all of Aristotle’s teachings—rather, we should deal with his thought in a nuanced, selective way.
Sophie is clearly influenced by her discussions of Aristotle, showing that she’s willing to take his sexism with a grain of salt. It’s telling that Sophie whispers to her Mom as her Mom sleeps, instead of the other way around—this suggests that Sophie is becoming more adult and mature, while her mother is still rather childish.
Sophie’s behavior shows where she puts her priorities—she has no patience for schoolwork, but rather finds more value and importance in her philosophical education. (It also helps that this philosophical education is accompanied by mysterious and fantastical circumstances.)
The mystery builds, as Sophie can’t make sense of the letters she’s receiving from Lebanon. The fact that she receives a letter from Lebanon at all suggests that the scope of this novel is getting wider and wider—we’re no longer confined to Sophie’s den; rather, we’re on a more global stage. It’s also telling that the letter is dated June 15th—a date that hasn’t yet arrived.
As Sophie proceeds with her education, the banality of her friends’ lives (and her own old life) becomes increasingly apparent. Joanna isn’t a bad person, but she seems relentlessly normal—interested mostly in boys. Sophie, by contrast, is interested in ideas, showing that she’s taken Alberto’s lessons to heart. There’s more than a little arrogance apparent in Sophie’s behavior, however—she knows she’s smarter (or “wiser”) than her peers.
Although Aristotle believed in the importance of balance and education, his most famous student, Alexander, launched a bloody program of empire-building that lasted until Alexander’s death. One could say that Alexander’s behavior was an insult to Aristotle’s philosophy; one could also say that his empire-building popularized Aristotle for generations, ensuring that Aristotle’s lessons influenced impressionable youths all over Europe and Asia.
From the vantage point of the 20th century, it seems fair to say that no philosopher during the Hellenistic period could rival Plato or Aristotle—but perhaps the same will one day be said of the modern era. The word “cynical” comes from the Cynics.
The Stoics were unique in the way they celebrated the power of the mind over the body. They also popularized monism, an idea that remained important to philosophical thought for many centuries. Alberto doesn’t spend a great deal of time reviewing the details of Stoicism; his emphasis is on the Stoics’ lasting contributions to philosophy.(The word “stoic” also comes from the Stoics.)
The Epicureans are interesting for the way they reinterpret Socrates, who believed that humans have a natural capacity for doing and achieving good. For the Epicureans, pleasure and goodness are one and the same. And yet, in Alberto’s view, Epicureanism goes too far in celebrating pleasure for its own sake. This teaches Sophie a valuable lesson—balance physical pleasure with the pleasure of the intellect.
Many of the philosophers of the Hellenistic era distinguish between the physicality of the human body and the boundlessness of the human mind. There’s a strong mystical, even magical, element to this idea, showing that philosophy, for all its emphasis on causation and logic, doesn’t entirely abandon the tone of religion and mythology.
Alberto takes great care to establish that philosophy, for all the attention it pays to reason and scientific explanation, doesn’t take the “magic” out of life. On the contrary, philosophers throughout history have been quick to admit that there are certain aspects of the universe that reason is powerless to understand. For example, in Buddhism, there’s a state of nothingness which only a select few (such as the Buddha himself) are privileged to experience. This is an important point to keep in mind as we move into the history of the Age of Enlightenment.
Sophie, for her part, seems eager to embrace the sense of mysticism that Alberto has just explained to her. As we already knew, she’s not sure if she believes in the soul or not, and yet in this scene, she feels a strong sense that the soul, or spirit, is a real thing. Sophie’s ability to accept the truth of concepts (such as the soul) for which there is no literal or material proof parallels her ability to find “truth” in works of fiction like the Norse legends.
As the novel goes on, we see Sophie taking on roles of leadership. Here, for example, she’s clearly leading Joanna, and not the other way around: Sophie’s been to the cabin, and Joanna hasn’t. This reflects her increasing sense of self-control and adventurousness. Sophie isn’t a very skillful liar, apparently. The fact that Joanna joins Sophie’s experience of the cabin and the letters seems to make it less fantastical and more “real.”
There appears to be a separate conversation going on between Hilde and her mysterious father, paralleling the conversations between Sophie and Alberto. Joanna and Sophie have no idea what to make of this figure, who seems to have the power to manipulate their entire world. In a way, it’s appropriate that Sophie should become aware of Hilde’s father at this time, since she’s just learned about the Aristotelian god, the “cause” of the entire universe.
The brass mirror becomes more important and mystical—such that even Joanna senses that it’s special, and thinks it’s appropriate to take.
As Sophie continues learning about philosophy, she becomes more aware of her world—not just her home and her town, but her country, and her country’s relationship with the rest of the world. This also brings up a point that Gaarder addresses only briefly. The study of philosophy may seem crucial for personal growth, but it also requires a relatively stable life. If one is going hungry or living in a warzone, it’s hard to stay focused on Aristotle.
Alberto seems strangely familiar with the interactions between Hilde and her father—that is, he doesn’t question them or wonder about them. He’s either the one responsible for all the strange goings-on, or else knows more about them than Sophie does.
Some have criticized Sophie’s World on the grounds that it’s a history of only Western philosophy (not “philosophy,” as it frequently claims). In this chapter, however, the novel takes efforts to show how our very definition of the West is, in a way, non-Western; i.e., the Western cultural tradition was shaped by the religions and thinkers of Asia and the Middle East.
Gaarder is attentive to the differences between different religious traditions. In particular, he places an emphasis on the different hierarchies of man and god—in some religions, for example, man is seen as God’s eternal inferior; in others, he’s meant to interact with God through meditation, or even to unite wholly with God. These are particularly important questions for Sophie, who seems to be coming to terms with her own relationship with a god-figure—Hilde’s mysterious father.
The history of the Jews and the Christians is just as relevant to the Western cultural tradition as the history of the Greeks and the Romans—it’s not for nothing that the Western world is still sometimes referred to as “Christendom.”
The chapter is careful to study Jesus Christ as a historical figure as well as a philosophical and a religious figure.In the broadest terms, Christ stands out from the other Jewish thinkers of the era in the way that he placed an emphasis on the “here and now” of life and spirituality, rather than talking about the return of the Jews to Israel. Sophie is encouraged to treat Jesus as a philosophical figure—a very important one, but not exactly unique in the history of the Western world (contrary to what the Christian tradition claims).
In many ways, Paul was more important in the rise of Christianity than Jesus Christ himself. Paul popularized many of the concepts that we think of as quintessentially Christian: most of all, the belief in the divinity of Christ himself. The cross-over between Paul and Athens shows that, following the death of Christ, Christianity became even more influential in Western history than Greco-Roman philosophy. Plato and Aristotle continued to influence thought, but—as we’ll see—their influence was limited to the extent that Christian thinkers could reconcile their philosophy with Paul’s.
Although Christianity sometimes gets a bad rap for subjugating women and treating women as second-class human beings, Alberto stresses that Christianity was, in many ways, friendlier and more inviting for women than were other religious and philosophical schools of the time. Christianity offered women the same salvation as men, at least.
This chapter is important because it establishes that Sophie’s World is about the formation of an entire cultural tradition: the Western tradition. It may seem odd that we lump together all of Christianity, Judaism, Platonism, and Aristotelians under the term “Western”—but the novel will show the ways that these four contradictory ideologies influenced each other.
By this point in the book, it’s clear that Hilde’s father is somehow “listening” to Sophie’s interactions with Alberto—he may not be present when Sophie reads Alberto’s letters, but he knows what they’re talking about (here, for example, he times his comments about monotheism in Lebanon to correspond to Sophie’s lessons about Christianity). This intensifies our sense of Hilde’s father as a god-figure.
For the time being, Sophie is still a young woman. Even though she’s slowly learning that her world is a fantastical place, she has to abide by the rules her mother sets—for example, that she can’t be out of the house past a certain hour of the night. As the book goes on, we’ll see Sophie paying less heed to her mother’s dictums.
In Sophie’s first real interaction with Alberto, she learns about the Middle Ages—and almost nothing about Alberto himself, who remains as mysterious as ever. The Middle Ages were a particularly important period of Western history, because, as Alberto stresses, this is the time when Europe works out some of the contradictions between Greco-Roman and Judeo-Christian values.
One of the key figures who reconciled Aristotle and Plato with Christ was Saint Augustine. As Sophie recognizes, Augustine returns philosophy to a belief in Fate. And yet this isn’t the whole picture: Augustine also makes room for individual agency. He shows that human beings have the freedom to make their own decisions, even though there’s an all-powerful God who controls everything in the universe. One might well ask, then, if Sophie is free to control her own actions, or if she, too, is controlled by Hilde’s all-powerful father.
Augustine is a political philosopher as well as a theologian. Although Sophie’s World often seems more interested in philosophers’ ideas about reality and subjectivity than in their political beliefs (usually, Alberto only discusses political philosophy toward the ends of his lessons), it’s also important to bear in mind these philosophers’ models of proper ad improper authority.
Aquinas is important to Western philosophy for much the same reason that Augustine is important: he reconciled much of Greek thought with Christian teaching. Considering some of the comments that Alberto and Sophie have made about what does and doesn’t qualify as “Western” thought, we should note that a big chunk of Greek philosophy (the quintessential “Western” philosophy) has only survived to the present day because it was preserved in Arabian scholarship. In short, Western philosophy has always been heavily dependent on non-Western cultures.
This is a good example of the kind of work that Augustine and Aquinas conducted during their lifetimes: i.e., an example of how these thinkers united Aristotle with the Bible. This involves saying that Aristotle was a wise man, but didn’t entirely understand what he was saying; he recognized that there was something that created the universe, but he didn’t recognize that this “thing” was the Christian god (and indeed couldn’t, because Christ hadn’t been born yet).
Alberto states what we’d already suspected: Hilde’s father is acting like a kind of God, planting clues of Hilde’s presence throughout Sophie’s world. Once again Alberto shows that he knows more about what’s going on than he’s willing to say.
Another important point about the Middle Ages—especially for Sophie—is the relationship between Christianity and women. Again, it’s important to recognize that Christianity was progressive in some ways, while still treating women as inferior to men—in spite of beliefs about women’s physicaland mental inferiority, they were granted the same reward as men in Heaven.
Hildegard of Bingen (whose name, we recognize, sounds an awful lot like “Hilde”) is an important figure for Sophie (whose name sounds an awful lot like “sofia”) because her example shows that it’s possible for a woman to be a philosopher (something that was by no means obvious from the earlier history of Western thought). Sophie seems to be subscribing to a kind of “prophecy” in this scene—without any proof, she believes that she’ll interact with Hilde at some point in the future.Once again, Sophie betrays her irrational, mystical side.
As Sophie learns more about the history of philosophy, she finds more and more counterparts between her life and the lives of philosophers of the past. This suggests again that there’s a god-figure who’s controlling and ordering her life—ensuring, for example, that her philosophical mentor has the same name as Aquinas’s teacher.
Once again, Sophie’s mother is totally disconnected from her daughter’s experience and education. She’s not a bad mother—she’s clearly concerned about her daughter’s wellbeing—but for Sophie she remains an example of a life without philosophy.
Sophie has already experienced the sight of a girl winking at her in the mirror, but now, she feels more confident interpreting this phenomenon. This scene also reinforces the mystical connection between Sophie and Hilde, and finally shows Hilde as a real, living person.
Sophie’s dreams are a running motif throughout the book. In her dreams, she can experience a more direct and literal connection between her own life and the lives of Hilde and Hilde’s father. Sophie also continues to experience concrete points of contact between herself and Hilde, such as the gold crucifix. The symbolism of a misplaced crucifix might suggest that Hilde and Sophie are losing their faith in God, or at least God as he is conventionally understood—or it could suggest that they’re communicating with each other in a mystical, even religious way.
Hilde’s father makes an explicit connection between the content of Sophie’s lessons and her own coming of age. In this way, Hilde’s father is just reiterating what we’ve already seen throughout the novel so far: that Sophie’s life is somehow intimately connected with her knowledge of Western philosophy. So just as the Renaissance saw a great bursting forth of intellectual endeavor, so too will Sophie (and Hilde) experience a rebirth of curiosity and excitement.
Alberto Knox is like a Merlin-figure—a magician who can come and go as he pleases, but still bases his schedule (and even his outfits) around Sophie’s education. Alberto seems increasingly dismissive of these borderline-miraculous events in Sophie’s life, and he also grows more critical of Hilde’s father.
Alberto is clearly hiding some important information about Hilde and Hilde’s father, but he doesn’t share it with Sophie. This reinforces the idea that Sophie will only solve the mystery of Hilde’s father as she comes to understand the mysteries of philosophy.
Alberto’s history lesson is cursory but important—it underscores the point that cultural revolutions must have very specific, material causes. We often talk about the Renaissance in abstract, cultural terms (even the name “Renaissance” itself is an abstraction of this kind), forgetting that the Renaissance was only possible because of inventions like the printing press, which allowed for the quick, reliable exchange of information.
The Renaissance was proof of the success of thinkers like Augustine and Thomas Aquinas: without their merging of Christianity and Platonism, the Renaissance thinkers could never have navigated smoothly between so many different philosophical systems. And yet in many ways the Renaissance thinkers rebelled against their Christian predecessors with scientific discoveries that discredited the (literal) centrality of man’s place in the universe.
Galileo showed that the Earth isn’t at the center of the universe—a hugely important discovery. But arguably even more important was Galileo’s new method—the method of empiricism and experimentation. Galileo’s successors, both in science and in philosophy, would imitate his methods to arrive at their own impressive discoveries about the world.
One important thing to keep in mind here is the relationship between Galileo and Newton’s specific discoveries and the more abstract, general lessons they teach us about science. So just as Sophie is more interested in the way that the natural philosophers conducted philosophy than in their specific conclusions, we might say that Galileo and Newton’s methods are more enduringly “true” than their conclusions (many of which are now debunked).
The revolutionary discoveries of Galileo parallel the revolutionary claims made by Martin Luther, who challenged the authority of the Catholic Church. Even if Galileo and Luther never actually interacted, it’s Alberto’s point that the general “spirit of the Renaissance” influenced both Luther and Galileo and caused them to make parallel innovations in their respective fields.
Even Alberto seems to be confusing Hilde and Sophie now. Gaarder gets more playful and fantastical in his text as the story goes on, increasingly suggesting that this “world” isn’t the only one within the universe of the novel.
Just as Luther and Galileo began to question man’s place in society and the universe, so Sophie begins to question her own place in her world.
As Sophie spends more time with Alberto, she’s required to lie more often to her Mom, furthering the distance between them.We’re not sure who the major on TV is, but it’s certainly possible that it’s Hilde’s father himself—he was associated with the “major’s cabin,” after all.
Sophie and Mom are fighting, but at least they’re being more emotionally honest with each other right now—and we get a glimpse into Sophie’s worries about her own family dynamic. Here Sophie has a more intimate moment with her mother than we’ve seen previously, and Mom even accepts the odd reality that an adult philosopher has been writing letters to her daughter. And yet Sophie continues to keep most of the information about her relationship with Alberto a secret from her mother. Sophie’s mention of menstrual cramps might symbolize her growing maturity and coming-of-age.
Interestingly, Sophie doesn’t fall behind in school, even as she spends less and less time thinking—or caring—about her schoolwork. This suggests that philosophy isn’t just a “useless” endeavor—it can help Sophie succeed in a conventional, real-world sense, by getting her higher grades on her exams. Hilde’s father—who is still alive, it turns out—also introduces an important concept here: our conceptions of time aren’t the same. One implication of this is that everyone has a different “world,” each with a different measure of time and space. We’ll return to this challenging idea many more times.
Despite the fact that Joanna is now tangentially connected to the strange events in Sophie’s life, she’s still more excited by traditional teenage things like parties.
It’s now confirmed: Hilde’s father was responsible for the returning of the missing money. The coincidences no longer seem merely fantastical—they’re purposeful, and both playful and sinister at the same time.
Alberto continues to deprecate Hilde’s father, suggesting that he is getting closer to the truth—that Alberto and Hilde’s world has been “created” by Hilde’s father, and yet he is still only a man (not an omniscient god) so his “miracles” are not particularly subtle.
As we reach the halfway point of the novel, the idea of “life as theater” becomes more central to the narrative (particularly as it seems increasingly likely that Sophie herself is just “on a stage” for another’s entertainment). This idea suggests that the real world (or what we think of as the real world) is itself just a form of fiction, which can be manipulated and controlled by others. It’s interesting that this idea comes into prominence at a time of war in Europe—one could say that the intellectuals of Europe wanted a way to escape from the violence and bloodshed of their day.
Baroque philosophers tried to understand how the universe is controlled—they tried to use math and physics to understand how planets move, or how rivers run. This is indicative of their belief in the predictable nature of everything in the world. It was widely believed that humans could understand the world if they were educated enough, and could even take on a godly power (this sounds a lot like the Sophistry that Alberto has warned of).
Descartes is one of the most original thinkers since Plato. He doesn’t just polish and modify other people’s ideas—he invents his own, starting from scratch. This reflects the new originality and uniqueness of Western thought following the Renaissance.
Descartes isn’t totally original here, ashis ideas about the distinction between the physical body and the abstract, all-reaching mind dateback at least to the Stoics. But Descartes is important in the way he emphasizes the relationship between body and mind, as we’ll see.
Descartes isn’t a mystic by any means: he doesn’t believe that magic or transcendence have any real place in philosophy. Instead, Descartes tries to use sharp, rigorous mathematical methods to understand the world.
Descartes’ question is by no means unfamiliar: we’ve all asked ourselves something like this (especially after watching a movie like The Matrixor The Truman Show). The very fact that we continue to ask ourselves this question shows that Descartes didn’t quite answer his own questions, and reminds us that philosophy is often more interested in asking questions than in answering them.
Like Aristotle, Descartes has an unshakeable power in the human mind’s ability to think. Descartes also resembles such early rationalist thinkers as Parmenides, who ignored what their senses told them and instead listened to what their minds told them.
Descartes’s proof for the existence of God, sometimes called the ontological argument, has been criticized by countless later thinkers (Immanuel Kant is often credited with hammering the final nail). More broadly, it’s interesting to see how Descartes—who claims to be trying to study the entire world, presupposing absolutely nothing, moves from Nothing to belief in God so quickly.
For all the flaws of his study of God and perception, Descartes is important to Sophie’s education because of the new emphasis he places on man as a physical, mechanical being (mechanical in the sense of being controlled by the laws of physics). Descartes also reiterates the old philosophical distinction between mind and matter, a distinction first established by the ancient Greeks.
Throughout the early modern era, we see man being treated as a less and less “divine” creature. By the time we get to Descartes, man isn’t particularly special, or at least the human body isn’t: it’s just another object.
At the time that Sophie’s World was written, there weren’t very advanced artificial intelligences that could communicate with humans. Interestingly, Laila seems to have information about Hilde’s father, confirming more of the connections we’ve seen throughout the book.
Perhaps because Sophie has just finished learning about Descartes and the omnipotent God, she finally learns something about Hilde’s father: his name. Just as Alberto had confused Sophie with Hilde, Sophie notices the similarity between Alberto Knox and Albert Knag: she’s beginning to see that her world runs parallel to Albert Knag’s world.
Spinoza’s life is a classic example of philosophy as a dangerous, radical endeavor. Spinoza used logic and empiricism to question the authority of the most powerful people in his society—the clergymen. For this reason, he was widely hated and vilified. And yet Spinoza’s ideas seem fairly uncontroversial by modern standards.
One of the trickiest aspects of Spinoza’s argument is the idea that thought and matter are two different versions of the same substance. It seems impossible that this could be true,and yet Sophie’s World—the novel itself—helps us understand Spinoza’s ideas by illustrating them in the plot of the book. Just as Spinoza believed that God is everywhere in the world and is the world, so too might we say that Sophie and her surroundings are all aspects of Albert Knag’s semi-divine authority; they could even be termed parts of Albert Knag himself. Also note that Alberto modestly refers to his intellectual achievements as “a mere bagatelle” (a trifle). We’ll return to this phrase a few more times.
Spinoza argues that freedom, as it’s traditionally understood, is just an illusion. This is a surprising idea, and should be unpacked a little. Spinoza, first of all, doesn’t believe that it’s possible for human beings to “choose” what they want to do: their desires and motivations are already imprinted into their very being. But even if freedom as we usually conceive of it is impossible, we can still find a state of enlightenment by acceptingour lack of agency. In order to do this, humans must study philosophy and religion carefully. Once again, this seems to be relevant to Sophie’s life. She is becoming increasingly aware of her lack of freedom, and yet she also seems to be gaining wisdom.
Each “trick” that Hilde’s father plays seems more extravagant than the last—Hilde’s father (Albert, we now know, is like a magician. The mystery, then, is why Albert is doing all this: what’s his goal?
Sophie isn’t the only one who’s having a hard time telling Alberto Knox and Albert Knag apart: Sophie’s Mom confuses them, too. We know that Sophie is “like” Hilde, and Alberto is “like” Albert. But what is the nature of their relationship? Are they two different versions of the same Platonic form? Two different sets of people in two different worlds?
Once again Sophie’s philosophical education is explicitly tied to the real life mysteries she’s trying to solve. She must get to the philosopher Berkeley (whose portrait we saw in the major’s cabin) in order to learn the truth.
Sophie’s interactions with Hilde and Albert Knag become increasingly direct, and her world grows increasingly more fantastical.
Alberto deliberately teases Sophie (and us) by promising to explain Albert Knag and instead launching into an explanation of Locke and Hume. The secret of Albert Knag, we can tell, must be earned bystudying philosophy.
As time goes on, philosophy seems to divide along national lines—for example, the continental philosophers of the 17th century were rationalists, while the U.K. philosophers tended to be empiricists. This is both a sign of the rise of the nation-state (a country with its own unique culture and philosophical sub-traditions) and perhaps also a sign of the way that philosophy “adapts” to different environments.
Locke is especially interested in the process of education: i.e., how the mind goes from blank slatestatus to a state of intelligence. While Locke’s ideas are important, they’re often considered naïve and simplistic compared to the ideas of Kant, let alone the theories of modern psychology and neuroscience.
Locke begins to make a distinction between different kinds of qualities and observations. The implication of this is familiar for a historian of philosophy; namely, that perception and reality aren’t necessarily the same thing. Locke’s attention to perception suggestsis reminiscent of Rene Descartes.
Alberto quickly summarizes Locke’s political philosophy and feminism, even though in the United States these aspects of his thinking are usually given a lot more attention than his epistemology (especially because Locke’s writings are often considered an inspiration for the American Revolution). Perhaps because Sophie’s World is a Norwegian book, it mostly skips over this information.
Once again the theme of women and sexism in philosophy comes up, as Sophie gets frustrated with the rather obvious fact that all the philosophers she’s learning about are men (with the exception of Hildegard, who isn’t nearly as famous as the others). This again brings up the idea that being a professional philosopher requires a certain level of privilege—rights, education, safety, and money.
Hume could be said to fall into the same tradition as Augustine and Aquinas: a great thinker whose main contribution was reworking other people’s ideas. With his emphasis on observation and empiricism, Hume reflects the dominant scientific ethos of the era, which we’ve already seen in Sir Isaac Newton. Instead of relying on abstract metaphysical ideas, Hume trusts only what he can measure and control.
Hume’s arguments more or less refute Descartes’s most famous idea, “I think, therefore I am.” Hume’s point is that even this theoretical “I” is altogether unlike the “self” with which Descartes conflated it. At any given moment there may be an “I” that thinks; and yet it’s impossible to prove that this is the same “I”—the same being—that persists over time. Alberto draws interesting parallels between Hume and Buddha, suggesting that Western philosophy isn’t as original or self-contained as some have claimed.
Hume radically reworks Aristotle, arguing that causation, quite aside from being a “real” thing, is impossible to measure, and therefore nonexistent. (Hume’s arguments would later appear in the writings of John Dewey and William James.)
It may seem impossible that something as intuitive as causation could be an illusion, and yet Hume is persuasive in the way that he refutes these intuitive assumptions. It’s a mark of Hume’s empiricism that he’s willing to dismiss causation because it can’t be measured—this reminds us that Hume trusted his observations, not his mind’s assumptions. (It’s worth mentioning that Alberto’s example of lightning and thunder is taken from The Genealogy of Morals by Nietzsche—not Hume.)
Hume might seem cold and clinical in his thinking—consider how ready he was to dismiss causation altogether, just because it couldn’t be scientifically measured. And yet there’s also a compassionate, moral side to Hume’s thinking. In many ways, Hume hasmorefaith in compassion than most—he sees evil as a totally moral and emotional concept, rather than a deviation in reason (as Socrates argued, centuries before).
Alberto grows increasingly frustrated with the man who seems to be his “double”: Albert Knag. Knag, for his part, keeps getting more extravagant in his intrusions into Sophie’s world.
The fact that we’ve finally gotten to George Berkeley suggests that we’re about to find out about the nature of Albert Knag’s control over Sophie’s world. It’s telling that Berkeley continued Locke’s questioning of sensation and experience—just as Sophie has been questioning the reality of her world, so too did Berkeley question the reality of the material world.
Berkeley, we already knew, questioned the objectivity of time and space. In many ways, his worldview corresponds most closely to the “world” we’ve seen in this book: a world where an all-powerful god figure controls everything, where time speeds up and slows down, and where physical space often seems to be a mere illusion.
Here, we come to the central twist of the book—the strong possibility that Sophie and Alberto are just fictions, creature who only exist as words on a printed page, or in the mind of an author. This is, of course, literally true (they’re in the book we’re reading). Moreover, Sophie and Alberto seem locked in a struggle for freedom: like Spinoza, they knowthat they’re the prisoners of Fate or a “god,” yet they don’t seem to accept the fact that someone else is controlling what they do, think, and say—they’re fighting for free will.
Albert Knag seems able to control even what Alberto says and does—Sophie and Alberto’s free will may be entirely an illusion. Overall, the meta-fictional quality of the book is intended to make us, the readers, want to question the reality of our own world (just as Berkeley did). Are we really any freer or more “real” than Alberto, Sophie, or even Albert Knag?
Now that the secret is out, Gaarder suddenly takes us to the other “world” Alberto kept alluding to: the world where Hilde lives. Of course, as readers we’re meant to recognize the fact that Hilde’s world is no more “real” than Sophie’s world is.
This explains why the major’s cabin contained a painting titled “Bjerkely”—it was a painting of Hilde’s home!
Hilde’s behavior in this chapter mirrors Sophie’s, and we finally see the other end of this magical mirror—Hilde was the one blinking back at Sophie.
The truth is now clear: Albert has written Sophie’s World—the book we’ve been reading so far—with the intention of educating Hilde about philosophy. Furthermore, Albert has modeled the character of Sophie on his own daughter. This is a surprising and entertaining twist—in essence, Sophie’s World is acknowledging that it’s just a work of fiction—and beyond that, it’s a meta-fiction partly about the philosophy that reality might be an illusion!
Sure enough, every chapter of Sophie’s World(the binder) corresponds to a chapter of the book we’ve been reading so far. One interesting question this brings up is: is Sophie more or less “real” than Hilde? While it’s obvious that both are fictional characters, the very fact that we began this book from Sophie’s point of view suggests that, if anything, Sophie is more real to us (more familiar, more human, more sympathetic) than Hilde.
Just like with Mom in Sophie’s world, Hilde’s mother seems a little disconnected from her daughter and her interests. We now get some more “real world” explanations for the strange occurrences in Sophie’s world.
Bjerkely was a total mystery for Sophie, but that part seems obvious to Hilde. The appearance of Berkeley as a philosopher, then, is a hint for both girls to keep learning about philosophy in order to solve this mystery.
Just as Berkeley suggested that time and space were illusions, it now seems that Sophie’s conception of time is an illusion—since Hilde experiences the equivalent of days for Sophie in the space of a few hours. If time is relative, then, perhaps space is, too—perhaps even the space called Bjerkely.
We see what the relationship between Sophie and Hilde really is: Sophie is a fictional character whose behavior is meant to serve as a model or mirror for Hilde’s. Hilde is supposed to learn from Albert through the surrogate figure of Sophie (who learns through Albert’s surrogate figure, Alberto). Yet there are also coincidences that seem (to Hilde, at least) to be more than just Albert’s trickery—the gold crucifix, for example, seems like a physical object that has passed from one girl’s world to the other.
On one level, Hilde is a kind of ideal reader—someone who intuitively grasps how fiction works, and finds a character “real” because she sympathizes with her. But here it seems that Hilde goes even further, and starts to believe that Sophie is actually alive—a human being with free will—somewhere within the world of her father’s book.
Hilde is reading the book Sophie’s World in the same way that we are—she’s learning about the history of philosophy, but she’s also learning about philosophy through the form of the novel itself. Sophie’s struggle to understand her world is a fascinating illustration of the ideas of Plato, Berkeley, Spinoza, and others.
In the same way that Hilde reads Sophie’s story from an “all-knowing” perspective(she can tell that Sophie’s trapped in her father’s fiction long before Sophie herself can), we might want to read Hilde’s story. And yet, the novel wants us to ask ourselves, why couldn’t we also be the product of someone else’s imagination?
Just as Hilde seemed a little disappointed by her mother’s gift, so does Sophie. Both girls have lost themselves in the world of philosophy. “It was only a dream” is a literary trope, but Gaarder has fun with it here in all his meta-fictional convolutions.
By this point, there’s no mystery about it: Sophie and Alberto know that they’re trapped in Albert’s book. But of course, even their awareness of this fact is just the product of Albert’s imagination (although Hilde doesn’t seem to believe this).
Alberto thinks he has a plan for escaping Albert, precisely by using Albert’s intentions (of teaching the history of Western philosophy) against him. And yet Alberto also seems more willing than Sophie to exercise a kind of philosophical defeatism—i.e., to say that nothing really matters, since they’re imaginary, anyway. This isn’t unlike the belief in fate or predetermination.
One could say that Alberto and Sophie’s awareness of their situation is an illusion, no more or less “real” than their passive acceptance of the story’s coincidences. But Hilde seems to believe that Alberto and Sophie have taken on a higher reality as they move through their education. While this may seem a little silly, we shouldn’t entirely dismiss this idea, since it’s a basic assumption of fiction (good fiction, at least) that the characters are, at least in an emotional or a conceptual sense, real.
Now that Albert “knows” that Sophie knows the truth about her reality, he can be more upfront about his control of Sophie’s world—and she has no choice but to comply.
Once again, Alberto and Albert are presented as both “doubles” and as competing figures. Now that we know more about the reality of the novel, it becomes clearer that Alberto’s criticisms of Albert are really just Albert himself being self-deprecating and playful.
It’s a sign of the relevance of the Enlightenment to Sophie’s own enlightenment that figures like Kant and Rousseau focused so extensively on education for young people. In general, we should keep in mind that the Enlightenment figures celebrated reason and intelligence above all else. They thought that the human mind was capable of understanding everything in the universe; hence the rise of projects like the encyclopedia, which could be said to compress all the information in the world into a set of books.
One paradox of Enlightenment philosophy is that while many philosophers of the era thought that their civilizations were on the verge of solving all human problems (with tools like the encyclopedia or the school), other philosophers believed that allcivilization was deeply flawed. We’ve already seen hints of this idea in Sophie’s World: civilization as it’s usually understood (a practical education, a job, travel) is portrayed as lonely, dull, or otherwise unfulfilling.
We can’t help but contrast Deism with the “rules” of Sophie’s world. In Sophie’s world, Albert Knag is actively involved in controlling what Sophie and her peers do: he can’t sit back and let his imaginary world run itself.
Enlightenment thinkers could be said to celebrate the natural rights of human beings—an idea that’s so common nowadays that it’s sometimes hard to believe that it was once highly controversial. How can a human be “born” with anything? Don’t humans have to work to achieve the right to do anything? Questions like these challenged thinkers like Voltaire and Rousseau to develop a theory of natural right that was logically sound, and that could be used to justify a political revolution. One major theme of these later chapters of the novel is the relevance of philosophy to the real world, especially the political world: philosophers like de Gouges and Rousseau undeniably had a real-world impact, since their words inspired many to take up arms against the King of France.
As Sophie becomes increasingly aware of the existence of Albert Knag, she also becomes more attuned to the fact that Albert is communicating with Hilde, and that the purposes of her (Sophie’s) interactions with Alberto is to educate Hilde: in other words, Sophie realizes that she was created with a purpose in mind.
Philosophy, we can see, isn’t just an exercise for dead white men, as it’s sometimes claimed—philosophy can empower all sorts of people, and de Gouges is proof that philosophy can be a powerful and dangerous tool in the hands of the oppressed.
This is a major moment—the first time Albert speaks aloud (rather than speaking through letters to Hilde). Clearly, his lessons for Hilde are working well—Hilde is learning a lot about philosophy by studying the adventures of Sophie and Alberto. As we too are learning, it’s often easier to study philosophy when it’s presented within the framework of a novel, rather than in a work of nonfiction.
Kant represents the philosophical project of many of the Enlightenment thinkers: he tries to study the world in a way that honors the role of reason and intelligence while questioning blind faith. This doesn’t mean that Kant doesn’t think faith has a place in life, but he also doesn’t think it can be running the whole show.
Alberto’s lesson for Sophie is a good example of why Albert bothered to write a novel for Hilde in the first place. By having Alberto teach Sophie philosophy lessons in a playful, friendly fashion—and by teaching Hilde indirectly, through a third-person work of fiction—Albert makes Hilde’s philosophy lessons more memorable and more interesting. The idea that time and space are categories builds on the counter-intuitive ideas of Hume: if causation can be an illusion—a subjective phenomenon—then perhaps space and time can be as well.
Kant’s philosophy reinforces one of the key points of Sophie’s World—that objective knowledge of the world is sometimes impossible. There will always be aspects of reality that are beyond human understanding, and which can only be understood in an illusory, even fictional form.
Sophie’s interpretation of Descartes and Kant is a common one, but not necessarily the correct one. Kant is perfectly upfront about the fact that God still has a place in his philosophy—he’s not trying to “trick” his readers into accepting God without knowing it. And the idea that there are some things beyond individual, rational understanding isn’t at odds with the rest of Kant’s philosophy: his entire philosophical project accepts this very premise.
The novel becomes increasingly fantastical, and increasingly fictional—in other words, Sophie can no longer ignore the fact that we’re reading a work of fiction (even for us, the readers, there’s rarely a moment when we truly forget that we’re just reading a book, as in many good works of literature). Instead of tricking his readers into thinking that this is “real,” Gaarder wants readers to actively question the nature of reality.
Kant disagrees with Hume about the nature of reason: he believes that it’s possible to have a system of right and wrong that’s based on something more concrete than sentiment. But this doesn’tmean that human morality is totally objective—on the contrary, morality is another category, comprehensible to human beings but totally incomprehensible to anyone else. In a way, Kant has his cake and eats it, too—he’s willing to say that morality is more objective than sentiment, but more subjective than math or science.
This is an important passage because it questions traditional definitions of freedom at a point in the text when the question of freedom has become particularly important (i.e. is Sophie free in any sense of the word, or is she just Albert’s slave?). Perhaps Sophie could be said to achieve freedom by divorcing herself of her appetites and desires—in other words, by pursuing reason and philosophy. Note Alberto’s catchphrase reappearing.
Alberto—usually so adversarial to Albert and all of Albert’s plans—is suddenly cooperating with Albert (as he was earlier, in wishing Sophie a “happy birthday Hilde”). This is because Alberto is Albert’s literary creation, of course—Alberto’s rebelliousness is no more real than his obedience.
Sophie’s most important and relevant subject may be epistemology and the study of what is and isn’t real, but the novel is also interested in defining what does and doesn’t qualify as “Western” thought. Kant’s support for what would one day become the United Nations suggests that Western philosophy played an important role in establishing what we now think of, politically, as the Western world.
Hilde continues to ignore her mother—she’s more interested in the symbolic “parenthood” of her book than the literal parenting of her mother.
In the midst of all the philosophy and meta-fiction, we get a brief scene of Sophie just having fun with her friend. The clock is ticking—Sophie and Alberto have decided that they must finish their lessons before Albert returns from Lebanon, so they have a chance to “escape.”
Alberto has a difficult task: he has to show how each successive philosophical movement was both a critique and a continuation of the preceding one. For example, Romanticism borrows many of the basic tenets of Enlightenment philosophy, yet critiques the Enlightenment for valuing reason more highly than emotion.
Sophie has plenty of doppelgangers in this text: Hilde herself, and now Novalis’s fiancée. Schelling is an interesting figure because he’s crucial to the development of the modern concept of a nation-state.
So far, we’ve seen various cultural “units”: the city-state, the empire, the kingdom, etc. The nation-state is different from all of these, in the sense that the people of a nation share a common cultural heritage (similar to the feeling that Sophie felt after learning about the Judeo-Christian tradition). One could even say that Sophie’s philosophy lessons are really a history of the rise of the modern nation-state, and of the formation of Western culture as we now understand it. This points to the fact that Sophie, as we understand her in the book, isn’t a unique individual: she’s just an “echo” of someone else’s reality. And yet we could say the same of Hilde, too.
This is an especially interesting passage because it provides something of a justification for the whimsical, playful format of this book. Fairy tales and children’s books aren’t just frivolous endeavors: they’re crucial in the formation of a nation. In the same way, one could argue that Sophie’s playful adventures with Winnie the Pooh and Alberto are crucial in teaching her about the nature of life.
This is a self-referential passage: the characters are talking about themselves as charactersin a work of fiction. In fact, it’s doubly self-referential—not only are the characters talking about their own fictional status; they’re talking about this by referencing another work of fiction in which characters speak self-referentially! Sophie’s World aims to disorient readers, getting them to question what they think of as reality and fiction.
The spirit (who looks like Alberto and Albert) is pointing to the arbitrariness of any definition of reality or fiction. From the right perspective, Lebanon (a real place) could be termed just as fictional as a fictional place like Bjerkely or the world of Sophie’s book.
Sophie and Alberto can’t actually free themselves from Albert’s work of fiction, but they can satisfy themselves in a different way: by pointing out that Albert is no freer than they are. Albert, it could be argued, is also locked in a world in which he has no true free will (and this point is especially valid because we know that Albert exists only in Gaarder’s mind). Based on Kant’s definition of freedom, one could argue that the only true form of freedom is an awarenessof one’s lack of freedom (in the same sense that the only true wisdom is acknowledging one’s total lack of wisdom, per Socrates).
This adds another layer to the paradox of Hilde’s binder. Sophie’s World—the book that Albert has written for his daughter—is also encouraging Hilde to rebel against her father. But this means that Albert himself is encouraging his daughter to question the nature of reality and rebel against her father. One could also say, as Hilde does, that Sophie herself is speaking out against Albert.
One of the ongoing themes of Western philosophy is the dichotomy between reason and emotion. There are thinkers who believe that reason reigns supreme—that there’s no space for emotion in philosophy, or that if there is, emotion should always be subordinate to reason. The Romantics are particularly important because of the extent to which they celebrate the emotions—irrational, unpredictable, unreliable.
Hegel is one of the key modern philosophers. Like Kant, Hegel is interested in questions of phenomenology—i.e., the study of how we perceive the external world and form ideas about it. But Hegel challenges some of Kant’s faith in the unchanging nature of reason and idealism. Hegel believes that ideas are in a constant state of flux. This is a truly original idea, and one that’s still pretty difficult to grasp without some practice. It’s a little like saying that 2+2 equals 4 in 2016, but not in 1716! While Hegelianism is far too complex to really dive into, it’s important to understand that Hegel is fundamentally an optimist—he believes the world is progressing to a state of enlightenment in which the individual will merge with the collective.
Arguably Hegel’s greatest contribution was the popularization of dialectical idealism. Hegel believes that the universe of ideas changes according to the principle of the dialectic: an idea must always interact with its opposite to form a new one. The structure of this novel so far mirrors Hegel’s ideas: philosophers propose new ideas; other philosophers oppose them, and a third batch of philosophers synthesize both points of view into new philosophical systems.
The principle of individualism has an obvious relevance to Sophie’s World. We’re not entirely sure if Sophie is really an individual with her own unique point of view and mindset, or if she’s just a part of a whole, i.e., the book she’s in. Hegel’s distrust for individualism is surprising, since he’s one of the quintessential Romantic thinkers—and for the most part, the Romantics celebrated individualism.
This is an important question. Philosophy, one could argue, is designed to “mirror” the complexity of the world: to explain how complicated things work in the simplest possible terms. This is one point of view—but it’s by no means the only one. One could also argue that philosophy is meant to change the world (Marx’s point of view), or that philosophy should better the individual.
Hilde’s fascination with Sophie leads her to believe that she and Sophie are equally alive and equally free. This may be an illusion, but this doesn’t mean the idea itself is completely invalid. As we’ll see, the illusion that Sophie is a real person causes Hilde to change her behavior, showing that fiction can inspire concrete, real-world change (and thus proving that Sophie is, in one sense, truly real).
Hilde continues to ignore her mother, showing that her allegiances now seem to lie with a fictional girl, not a flesh-and-blood woman.
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll was clearly a big influence on this novel: like Carroll, Gaarder presents big, complex ideas in a children’s book via amusing stories and jokes. Alice’s experiments with perception and individuality help Sophie understand part of what Hegel was talking about when he proposed a unity of individual and collective. This is a good reminder of why fiction can be better than philosophy itself at conveying philosophical ideas: Hegel is dry and straightforward in discussing the world spirit, but ultimately he lacks the imagination to describe it. Gaarder, a fiction author, isn’t afraid to imagine what it might be like to experience a collective individuality.
Even Hegel’s own ideas aren’t immune from the dialectic cycle of thesis and antithesis. Hegel’s emphasis on ideas immediately prompted Søren Kierkegaard’s theories of radical individuality—an individuality so extreme that the individual has no choice but to ponder God.
It’s interesting that Kierkegaard, often credited with the development of modern Existentialism, was a passionate Christian. Although he questioned the nature of his faith (and reality itself), he kept returning to the fact of a Christian God.
Kierkegaard has been termed an “anti-philosopher”—someone who believes that philosophy’s promises of universal enlightenment are lies, and tries to bring people happiness in simpler, more individuated ways.
In many ways, Kierkegaard is reacting to the Baroque and Enlightenment tradition, which made great strides in showing that the universe could be understood without resorting to emotion or faith. But even these figures, such as Descartes and Kant, acknowledged that there was a place for God and faith in their systems—they were forced to keep God in the equation.
One debate about Kierkegaard is, what is the relationship between the three stages of spiritual development? Does one necessarily follow from the other? (The idea that one mental state eventually leads to a different one is reminiscent of Hegel’s master-slave dialectic).
Kierkegaard doesn't play the usual game of “good guy / bad guy”—he essentially doesn’t condemn anything wholesale, because he recognizes that even crises and falsehoods can lead to a higher plane of consciousness.
Much like Hegel, Kierkegaard posits the existence of a state of enlightenment, but doesn’t explain what this state would look like. By now, we should be used to this: for all their talk of enlightenment, most philosophers don’t seem to have much sense for what enlightenment actually looks or feels like.
Just as Sophie is often encouraged to learn more from philosophers’ questions than their answers, so Hilde now uses her father’s own methods against him (or so we presume). Albert’s lessons aren’t about indoctrinating Hilde into his worldview, but about teaching her how to build her own worldview.
This is a good example of how Sophie might be said to lose her individuality and her freedom as she becomes more conscious of Albert Knag. Sophie seems not to invent the lie herself; rather, Albert Knag inspires her to lie. This has a semi-religious quality to it; one thinks of the prophets, inspired to speak the “word of God.”
Alberto continues to suggest ways to elude Albert, but we know the truth: as long as Alberto and Sophie exist in the book, they have to credit Albert with their very existence. This means that they can never be entirely free, in the sense of being entirely self-sufficient: they’ll always owe their existence to someone else. Even so, the idea of finding freedom in between the lines is an intriguing one, supported by the questions Gaarder has raised earlier in this chapter.
This is an unusually grisly and vivid episode for the book. As we become more and more conscious of the constructed, artificial nature of the book we’re reading, the events of the book itself become more bizarre (but no less “real” or affecting). Scrooge’s interaction with the match girl illustrates his greediness and miserly personality—important facets of the study of Marxism. The “little match girl” is an old Danish folk tale about a girl who dies while trying to sell her matches.
As always, Alberto acts as a kind of encyclopedia for the oddities of the book—whenever there’s a character whom Sophie might not know, he’s there to explain what’s going on.
Marx is one of the key modern philosophers because he expanded the very idea of what a philosopher could do.It’s not entirely fair to say that philosophers before Marx stopped at describing the world, however—we’ve already seen that this isn’t the case at all, as philosophers exercised great influence on the way the world works, from the American and French Revolutions to the dawn of Protestantism.
Marx goes about analyzing the world in a much different sense than Kant or Hegel. Whereas Kant and Hegel adopt a lofty, “ivory tower” tone, Marx focuses on questions that might have seemed too basic or mundane for earlier thinkers to approach, such as: who has the time to think about philosophy? what civilizations are capable of philosophical thinking? and what is the relationship between financial prosperity and philosophical innovation?”
Marx continues his materialistic study of history and philosophy by contending that all of history is about the struggle for finite resources. Critics of Marx contend that this is a gross oversimplification of history—there’s simply no reasonable way that we can understand all of history in such extreme class terms.
Marx, no less than Hegel or Kant, believed that enlightenment was within reach of humanity—he just thought that this enlightenment would have to take a more concrete, real-world form. (Marx is often criticized for not writing enough about what kindof government would be necessary to sustain Communism, and thus for enabling the dictatorships of Stalin and his successors).
Marx’s theory of capital is immensely complicated (his book on the subject is hundreds of pages long), but there are a few key principles that we should keep in mind. First, history is a constant struggle between those with power and property and those with none. Second, the only real source of power is control of the “means of production”; i.e., control of the industry that makes commodities. Finally, Marx (much like Hegel, with his more abstract dialectical thinking) doesn’t play “good guy/bad guy.” He believes that Communism will inevitably arisebecausecapitalism will lead the way toward it. He argues that capitalism itself will exploit the proletariat until they have no choice but to rise up.
One could criticize Marx for enabling Stalin by arguing for the historical necessity of Communism without actually focusing on how a Communist government would work (this was Bertrand Russell’s criticism).
So far, Sophie and Alberto haven’t talked much about political philosophy; their priorities have always been with questions of what is and isn’t real (and these questions have obvious relevance to the plot, as well as the nonfictional content of this book). But this chapter has been a little different: it’s foregrounded questions of politics at the expense of questions of reality. One of the big conclusions of this chapter is that a truly impartial form of government is difficult, if not impossible—those who craft the government will inevitably favor their own interests at the expense of others’.
Hilde continues to draw meaningful connections between the fictional contents ofher binder and her real-world life, suggesting that fiction, whether it’s “real” or not, has the potential to influence real life.
The Noah episode marks a turning point in the novel. Previously, Sophie had a soft spot for fictional stories—myths, fairy tales, etc. Here, the gist of the chapter is that Darwin’s theories destroyed the supremacy of the Noah’s ark story, making it a “mere” fairy tale for the rest of history. In general, we should notice that Darwin, Freud, and Marx question man’s freedom—they suggest that individual freedom, as it’s typically understood, is just an illusion, and that little-understood scientific laws control the way people behave.
This section establishes the historical preconditions for Darwin’s scientific theories. While there were some scientific reasons why scientists before Darwin didn’t believe in the notion of evolution (like fossil evidence), the biggest reason they rejected evolution wasn’t scientific at all—it was simply that they relied upon the notion of a perfect, unerring God to explain the origins of species.
To most people at the time, evolution was impossible because a perfect god would never make an imperfect world, meaning that evolution wasn’t necessary in any abstract moral sense. Darwin, however, argues for evolution in spite of his Christian faith: he believed in a perfect god, but he also trusted his research and his evidence.
Darwin began crafting his theory like any good scientist: by studying the available data. In essence, Darwin recognized a conceptual problem—the diversity of species—and tried to find an explanation for this problem that didn’t just fall back on God’s perfection.
Darwin’s theory of evolution was an important paradigm shift because it re-conceptualized nature as a place of constant conflict (in much the same way that Marx saw society as the site of an endless battle for the means of production). One reason why people hadn’t really viewed nature in this way was that they didn’t understand (as Malthus did) that there were never really enough resources to go around: because they believed that the Earth’s resources were limitless, people couldn’t see any precise reason for conflict between animals. But perhaps most of all, people refused to see nature as a site of conflict because of their religious faith: would God create nature to be such a brutal place?
Darwin’s most controversial idea (both then and now) is that humanityitself isn’t immune to the process of evolution. This has all sorts of conceptual applications: for example, there were many who said (and still say) that society is a competition for control of resources, in exactly the same sense that nature is. One could respond, however, that unlike in nature, many societies don’t leave the weak to die; they support the poor and the unhealthy with welfare, healthcare, etc. But of course, this isn’t always the case.
Sophie’s question illustrates an important point about the scientific process: every new scientific theory raises new questions and new problems for other scientists to solve. There is no such thing as a theory that doesn’t raise some logical objections—even Darwin’s theory, supported as it was by logic and empirical observation, couldn’t quite explain how the diversity of species appears in the first place.
Darwin was remarkably prophetic in the way he hypothesized that life was born out of a warm, aquatic area. From hereon out, the chapter becomes sketchier than what we’re used to—Alberto gives a few theories for how life might have emerged millions of years ago, but can’t back up any of these theories with much logical or empirical proof.
Alberto doesn’t just teach Sophie about abstract questions of right and wrong—he necessarily also has to teach her about science, physics, and other “practical” subjects.
The theory of the “primordial soup” was an important step forward for evolutionists, but it still, as of 2016, has a long way to go in showing how life could have appeared on Earth. (In 1990, when Sophie’s World was written, this theory was much trendier than it is now.)
Alberto raises an important point about the theory of evolution. As far as a “pure” evolutionist is concerned, evolution has no “master plan”—all genetic mutations are random, meaning that any genetic mutation with greater survival value is also random (for example, intelligence). Alberto, however, thinks that evolution may be “designed” to foster certain qualities, such as intelligence. (This is reminiscent of Aristotle’s idea of the four causes, andAlberto might be making the same mistake for which he criticized Aristotle; i.e., arguing that evolution exists “in order to” produce intelligent brains, rather than admitting that intelligence is just an outcome of evolution).
Alberto brings up another important objection to the theory of evolution—the theory of “irreducible complexity.” The eye is the classic example of this concept—and there are many who have used it to refute Darwin’s ideas altogether. For a refutation of the theory of irreducible complexity, consult Richard Dawkins’s The God Delusion.
Darwinism may be a scientific theory, but this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have major cultural ramifications. Darwin himself wasn’t a poet or a novelist, but he created a new artistic mindset. One could interpret Darwin’s ideas as bloody and depressing (all species are destined to either evolve or die) or inspiring and fascinating. Alberto’s command at the end of the chapter only reaffirms the meta-fictional nature of the story, and shows that Alberto and Sophie have now fully accepted that they exist only within the world of a book.
As the book reaches its conclusion, we notice a major conflict in Sophie’s education: the conflict between materialism and idealism. One could say that life is just a collection of “stuff interacting with other stuff,” whether it’s the proletariat competing with the bourgeoisie, as in Marx, or animals competing for food, as in Darwin. And yet Marx and Darwin’s theories of the material qualities of life might be said to neglect the spiritual side of life. There seems to be more to existence, at least in Sophie’s mind, than competition.
Freud, no less than Darwin, instituted a paradigm shift in Western culture, not just Western philosophy or science. He suggested that mankind is wrong to have faith in its own enlightenment and intelligence—there’s more to the mind than its thoughts or even its emotions. Even though most of his ideas are now considered incorrect, one could say that Freud discovered a “new world”—the unconscious recesses of the human mind.
Freud was almost as shocking as Darwin, as far as 19th century Victorian readers were concerned. Freud was alsocritical in the development of the modern education system: Freud placed new importance on human development before the age of 5.
Freud actually made up the word “ego,” which means “I” in Latin, because his English-language publisher wanted his ideas to seem more official and jargon-y—but even if we set aside the names id, ego, and superego, we can tell that Freud changed psychology and philosophy forever. Gone is the alert, forward-thinking consciousness of Descartes, Hume, and Locke: the mind is now a complex, unpredictable thing that can never be fully controlled or understood. And while earlier philosophers tried to control the consciousness by urging humans to follow one particular system of morality (be it Christian, Kantian, etc.), Freud concluded that the mind is always locked in a struggle between desire and morality—a struggle which, contrary to many philosophers’ wishes, will never truly end.
If the mind is a vast, unpredictable thing, we might well ask, “how can we attempt to understand it?” or even, “what’s the point of trying to understand it?” Freud believed that he could study the mind’s behaviors in order to deduce what the mind was really thinking. Parapraxis is a great example of this principle in action: by studying patients’ slips of the tongue, Freud could attempt to understand what they were really thinking about (and attempting to repress).
One of the great debates about Freud’s thought concerns how Freud wanted people to behave: should they give into their id’s irrational desires, or try to repress them altogether? Most interpreters of Freud maintain that Freud opted for something in between these extremes: he wanted patients to release some of their unconscious urges in a safe, neutral setting (like the psychologist’s couch).
Freud’s faith in the importance of interpretation and analysis reiterates the driving theme of Sophie’s World(both Hilde’s binder and the novel we’re reading). Just as Freud believed that bizarre stories could have a serious, even profound point, so too does this novel evoke profundity by telling silly, fantastical stories. The example Alberto gives suggests that much of humans’ thought is sexual in nature (one of Freud’s strong beliefs, and biases). Sophie’s success in interpreting this story, furthermore, might suggest that she’s in touch with her own sexual urges, and is maturing quickly.
There’s a major debate over how to create art: to what extent should we rely on our unconscious mind? For some, the unconscious was the source of all creativity, but it seems more likely that creativity is something more like a balance between the conscious and unconscious mind.
This coda to the chapter on Freud reiterates a point we’d come across in the previous chapter: if Albert Knag himself is conscious of one interpretation of his book, is that interpretation “free” from Albert’s control? One could argue that it is (it exists independent of whether Albert wills it or not), or that it isn’t (Albert created Sophie and Alberto, even if he didn’t “create” interpretations of their ideas). Maybe the bigger point to keep in mind is that Albert isn’t much freer than Sophie—he has no more control of his unconscious mind than anyone else.
This is a funny section, because Gaarder seems to be talking directly to his readers without actually addressing them. Gaarder is telling his readers not to skip ahead to the end of the book, so as not to ruin the surprise!
The meaning of Hilde’s dream is by no means clear (that’s part of the point), but certainly Hilde and Sophie are still inextricably linked, as shown by their joint possession of the gold crucifix.
This passage is borderline unintelligible to anyone who didn’t grow up in Scandinavia, where The Adventures of Nils is a popular children’s book. Suffice it to say that Nils and Morten are beloved children’s book characters, as well-known in their country as the Cat in the Hat is in the United States. Morten carries Sophie through the sky, much as Alberto and Albert could be said to carry Sophie through the complex terrain of Western philosophy. The similarities between Morten and Alberto / Albert are then underscored by Morten’s parting words to Sophie, “A mere bagatelle,” which we recognize as Alberto’s modest catchphrase for Sophie. Gaarder also throws in some more meta-fictional jokes here, as Morten and Nils realize that they too are in a book.
We’re not sure what Alberto is planning, or even what he couldbe planning without Albert’s knowledge. It’s suggested that Alberto is evading Albert’s authority by operating out of Albert’s subconscious, but there’s no indication that Alberto is even anything but a part of Albert’s subconscious.
At the beginning of this novel, Sophie was a shy young girl, more comfortable in her den than in public. Now, Sophie doesn’t think twice about surveying a crowd and criticizing it for being full of aesthetes (which seems like an arrogant thing to say about people she’s never met before, and shows that she’s not immune to the hubris that comes with knowledge).
It’s a pity that Alberto doesn’t have more time to discuss Friedrich Nietzsche (who’s just as deserving of an entire chapter devoted to his philosophy as Kierkegaard or Hegel). But at this point, it becomes harder to group philosophy into manageable units, such as Romanticism, Enlightenment, etc. Even Existentialism, the dominant “theme” of this lesson, is a loosely understood philosophical school, encompassing a far more diverse array of philosophers than its predecessors.
One sign that philosophy seems to be making progress over time its embrace of female thinkers. Simone de Beauvoir made contributions to feminism, phenomenology, and more., and she’s by no means the only modern philosopher who did so. (One could mention Butler, Sedgwick, or Kristeva, too.)
Sartre’s philosophy contradicts much of what we’ve been discussing in this book so far. Unlike Enlightenment or even Romantic philosophers (let alone Plato and Aristotle), Sartre doesn’t believe that it’s productive to begin a discussion of humanity by talking about its essence—i.e., its biological construction, its perceptual capabilities, or any definition of “human nature.” Note that this doesn’tmean that Sartre doesn’t believe that it’s important to discuss these concepts—it’s just that they can’t be weighed more highly than the fundamental fact of mankind’s existence. Alberto’s example of how this works in practice (that humans are like actors with no script) reminds us that in this novel, especially, “all the world’s a stage.”
To Sartre, even nihilism is a form of universalism (i.e., “everything is meaningless”), and thus a contradiction of Existentialism. In a way, Sartre is even more committed to the concept of freedom than his predecessors—he wants each human being to find his or her own freedom. This idea also seems relevant to the novel. Sophie has accepted that she exists only in the pages of a book, so now she must go about finding freedom and meaning within the parameters of that reality.
Alberto wants Sophie to become aware of her own changing thought processes. This is an important point to bear in mind, because it suggests that Sophie herself might be projecting onto the other members of the crowd, and assuming that she is more enlightened than the people around her.
De Beauvoir’s ideas were widely criticized at the time because they seemed to contradict biological facts. But this wasn’t quite de Beauvoir’s point: she wasn’t saying that there are no biological differences between men and women, but that there is no innately feminine way of perceiving the world, contrary to what’s often assumed (for example, “woman’s intuition”).
Like Darwin and Freud, Sartre’s philosophical ideas weren’t only influential in the world of philosophy; they also had a profound influence on Western art and literature. Gaarder presents Camus as primarily a fiction writer, but he was also a philosopher who was arguably as influential as Sartre, and developed the philosophy of Absurdism.
Alberto is too wise to claim that Sophie is now “educated” in all of Western philosophy. The purpose of this book hasn’t been to give a total summary of Western thinking; rather, it’s aimed to convey some of the narrative sweep of philosophy’s history: for example, to show how Enlightenment influenced Romanticism, or how Romanticism influenced the rise of Existentialism.
Throughout the book, Alberto has been trying to refute the idea that philosophy is a useless endeavor. Here, he shows the ways that philosophy, far from being useless, is intimately engaged with the problems of the real, contemporary world.
It’s impressive that Alberto has concealed his distaste for mysticism and occultism for so long—it’s as if he’s been withholding his own opinions so that he can be a truly impartial teacher (this would suggest that his duties as a teacher are now concluded). Alberto and Sophie could be said to represent the two sides of Western philosophy: the former rigid, scientific, and eminently rational; the latter sensitive, intuitive, and mystical. Sophie seems more willing than Alberto to believe in the existence of spirituality and mysticism. Once again Gaarder plays with reality by placing the book “Sophie’s World” as a physical object even within the world of Sophie’s World.
We see that Sophie’s disagreements with Alberto correspond roughly to Albert’s disagreements with Hilde (as we might expect).
As in the bookstore scene,Gaarder adds another layer of meta-fiction to the text here: Sophie’s World is now a book, written into a book, written into a book! This is an early sign that the structure of “Sophie’s world” (not just the book, but the whole world) is slowly coming apart.
Relatively small events in Hilde’s world (like Albert’s return from Lebanon, or Hilde’s birthday) become huge, quasi-religious events in Sophie’s world. It’s a sign of Sophie’s growing maturity that she repeats Alberto’s catchphrase, showing that she’s mastered many of the lessons he’s taught her.
This is one of the only extended descriptions of “Sophie’s world” in all of Sophie’s World. In other words, it’s one of the only times when Sophie interacts at length with people other than Alberto or her mother. This should remind us of the Allegory of the Cave: having achieved a kind of enlightenment, Sophie has returned “underground” to find that her peers seem particularly shallow and uneducated (but also increasingly absurd, as the book’s sense of reality spins out of control).
Absurdity and comedy becomes more and more the norm in Sophie’s world. The adults seem scattered and confused, while Sophie’s peers seem exaggeratedly childish and simple-minded.
Just as Plato prophesized, news of enlightenment is greeted with anger and hatred by the unenlightened. Of course, in this scene the guests’ small-mindedness is exaggerated and played for comedy.
As reality seems to break down, so too do the human relationships previously established in the book. Sophie and her Mom, in particular, now seem to have moved into the realm of abstraction.
The symbolism of this scene is clear enough—Sophie explicitly mentions that she’s being driven out of terrestrial paradise. When Sophie began her philosophy lessons, she was innocent and straightforward in her thinking. Now, she’s learned to question everything in her world, even the world itself. The question then becomes: has Sophie’s education made her any happier, or was her ignorance bliss?
This section raises questions that are too complicated for Sophie’s Worldto answer. One could say that Sophie and Alberto persist even after their book is over—so it’s Hilde’s duty to keep writing (or at least reading) about them. It’s also possible that these characters are just that—characters—meaning that they’re “done” when their book is done.
As Albert retires from his duties as an author, Hilde prepares to become an author-figure, manipulating her father in the same way that her father manipulated Alberto and Sophie. This is a sign of Hilde’s own coming-of-age (independent of Sophie’s). It’s not explained how, exactly, Alberto and Sophie are driving around—what book are they a part of, exactly?
The new “Sophie book” that we’re reading doesn’t try to tinker with the setting or plot of the original Sophie’s World, even as it reinterprets Sophie and Alberto, the two characters Albert invented. Perhaps Gaarder is trying to convey that Sophie and Alberto are “coming alive”; that their existence extends past the confines of Albert’s book.
As the book approaches an ending, it’s confusing to keep track of what is and isn’t fictional—i.e., whether this section is the product of Hilde’s writing or Gaarder’s. Now that Albert himself is a character, and no longer a seemingly omnipotent creator, it becomes clear that he’s no more “real” than Sophie, Alberto, or even us as readers.
It now becomes apparent what the “favor” Hilde asked of her friends was. This prank (as far as it exists within Hilde’s world) is meant to make even Albert Knag question his own reality, and wonder whether he, like Sophie, is being manipulated by an all-powerful figure.
The point of Alberto’s story is that it’s often foolish to distinguish between different levels of reality (reality, one could say, is an all-or-nothing proposition—things are either real or they’renot). In this way, Gaarder is subtly mocking his own readers for trying to distinguish between the new Sophie/Alberto narrative and Gaarder’s own—a project that amounts to determining which fiction is more real than the other.
In this amusing interlude, we’re reminded that even if Alberto and Sophie could be considered real people, this isn’t the definition of “real” that most people are used to—by the same logic, Sherlock Holmes and Peter Pan are real, too.
Hilde is toying with Albert so that he feels regret for the way he manipulated Alberto and Sophie in Sophie’s World. (Of course, it’s also possible that this section of the text appears in Hilde’s own writing, suggesting that Hilde is staging a reunion scene between herself and her father that may never come.)
Once again, Gaarder blurs the line between fiction and reality—we’re not sure if we’re reading this in another book, or whether it’s happening in the “world” of the novel itself (Hilde and Albert’s world, that is).
This is one of the first times in the novel when Sophie sees Hilde face-to-face (she previously saw Hilde only in the brass mirror). This is especially interesting, considering that this is also the first time in the novel when we get an extended physical description of Hilde. The implication is that Hilde’s reality is somehow unfinished until she is reunited with her “partner,” Sophie (this idea is somewhat similar to Hegel’s notion of the world spirit).
At the same time that Sophie reunites with Hilde, Hilde reunites with her father, or at least seems to (there’s still the possibility that Hilde is imagining all of this).Hilde, we’re told, has finally grown up, not only by learning about philosophy but also by daring to play philosophical tricks on her own father—a sign of her maturity and initiative.
Hilde has relied on Ole and Anne to send bizarre messages to Albert, in much the same way that Albert sent bizarre messages to Sophie. In this sense, we might say that Albert has paid the penalty for exploiting his own fictional character—thus, it’s time to call it quits.
The final question of this book is: is the world of ideas really a substitute for the world of physical things? In other words, can fictional characters ever really take the place of real people? This section also raises questions about what does and doesn’t qualify as freedom. Alberto and Sophie seem convinced that they’ve attained true freedom, despite the fact that they seem to be inhabiting a different book still (our version of Sophie’s World, at least.
Albert has taught Sophie that there’s no firm distinction between philosophy and science. Science, one might say, generates the ideas that philosophy then reinterprets (Newton’s universal, scientific laws inspired Kant, for example). Now, philosophy is faced with a new challenge: how to interpret man’s place in a vast, seemingly infinite universe?
This is another reminder that time is relative—our idea of the present moment isn’t identical to another planet’s version of the present, just as time passed differently for Sophie and for Hilde.
In a strange way, the current trends in science seem to support mankind’s earliest ideas of the world: for example, the idea thatthe world occurs in an endless repetitive cycle. So maybe it’s not fair to say that philosophy and religion have “progressed” from incorrect ideas tomore correct ones—maybe philosophers got it right (or at least asked the right unanswerable questions) from the start, and have been reinterpreting the same ideas ever since.
This scene shows that Alberto and Sophie can still interact with the “real world”—but we can’t tell if this is the result of Albert or Hilde imagining an alternate universe in which Sophie continues to exist, or if this is just Gaarder reimagining the rules of physics and being playfully meta-fictional again.
Notably, Sophie is less willing than Alberto to give up entirely. She has a strong sense of perseverance and faith, something we’ve already seen in her support for Plato, Spinoza, and the Romantics. Alberto is less hopeful and ambitious, but he respects Sophie for trying to interact with Albert and Hilde.
This information parallels the Darwinian paradigm shift—the idea that all life forms are connected since they come from the same DNA molecules. Modern science has generalized this concept to say that all matter comes from the same places.
Once again, Sophie tries to change the material world, even after her former tutor, Alberto, has given up.
Sophie appears to have succeeded in moving the rowboat, even though Alberto insists that such a thing is logically impossible. (This could also just be a coincidence—we’re not told.) In the end, Gaarder doesn’t bother to explain what is and isn’t real in his book—he leaves this up to us. What is clear, however, is that Hilde seems to have reunited with her father: because she’s been studying philosophy, she’s “come of age,” to the point where she and her father are equals. Sophie, for her part, has experienced her own coming of age by studying philosophy. In this way, she’s learned to be strong, hopeful, and a little bit mystical. Whether or not Hilde and Sophie are real, the lessons they’ve learned about life and philosophy have plenty of truth in them.
For each of these themes find example passages from the text that support this as theme, explains the theme, or gives a rationale for the theme - present your examples and explanations in a way that suits you - use multimedia, photos, videos, whatever you would like that helps you flesh out the themes and passages!
WONDER
The concept of “wonder”—both in the sense of questioning what is true, and in the sense of being continually astounded by the world—is crucial to understanding Sophie’s World. One reason the novel doesn’t end with Sophie arriving at an answer to her questions is that any such answer would be a little unsatisfactory, since it would make the universe seem “fixed,” predictable, and dry. Alberto teaches Sophie about philosophy not to give her answers but to train her to ask questions—to think of herself as an outsider, trying to make sense of what’s right in front of her nose. As Alberto says toward the beginning of the novel, the philosopher is like a child watching a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat. Most adults are so used to seeing “tricks” of this kind that they don’t bat an eye—by the same token, most adults aren’t astounded by the fact that they’re alive, that the universe exists, etc. A good philosopher will never lose her sense of wonder at the universe’s mysteries.
THE NATURE OF REALITY
Sophie’s World may be a book about Western philosophy, but it’s (inevitably) too short to encompass all of Western philosophy—it has to pick and choose which aspects of this subject to focus on. It’s important to note that while the book outlines many of the major questions of philosophy, it’s a little more interested in answering some of these questions than others. When Alberto Knox reviews Spinoza, Locke, Kant, Plato, etc. with Sophie Amundsen, he spends much more time discussing these figures’ ideas about epistemology—i.e., the study of what is real and what can be known about the world—than he does reviewing their views on ethics, politics, etc. One reason that the book focuses more on epistemology than ethics or political philosophy is that the question of reality is directly relevant to the book’s plot. As we move on, we become aware that the story of Sophie and Alberto, as it’s presented in the novel, is itself being read by another girl, Hilde Møller Knag, whose father, Albert Knag, has sent her a book called Sophie’s World for her 15th birthday. It’s no wonder that Sophie’s World focuses so extensively on epistemology—as the characters try to figure out what world they’re in, and whether or not they’re “real,” the philosophy of epistemology becomes directly relevant to their lives.
One way to start talking about epistemology and reality in Sophie’s World is to ask, which of the two storylines is more real than the other? Certainly, this is the question that Sophie and Hilde keep asking themselves. Sophie begins to realize that her life—her entire “world,” as the book’s title says—is the product of an author’s imagination. Nothing she does matters, since it’ll only ever amount to a pile of ink and paper. Similarly, Hilde recognizes that Sophie is struggling to come to terms with her world’s unreality. Hilde begins to resent her father for “cruelly” manipulating Sophie and her fellow fictional characters—she thinks that he has some responsibility to treat his creations with a measure of respect.
The trick that Sophie’s World plays on us is so clever that it can take a while to realize what it is. By asking which storyline is real—and by encouraging us, again and again, to try to answer this question—the book deceives us into forgetting that—of course—neither text is more or less real than the other: they’re both equally fictional, equally made up, equally ink-and-paper. By playing this trick on us, Sophie’s World makes one of its most persuasive and powerful points about the nature of reality. If we’re willing to believe that one fictional story can be more real than the other, then we’ve already conceded that a work of fiction can be real in the first place. But in what sense can fiction be real?
Throughout Sophie’s World, it’s suggested that ideas and stories may be more real than what we usually think of as reality (the physical, material world that we interact with every day). This is one of the oldest ideas in Western philosophy, dating all the way back to Plato.
(who believed that the world of unchanging, idealized “forms” was more real than the material world, which was always changing). But even if we don’t agree with Plato, the idea that stories and fictions can be real and true is a basic premise of literature—if we didn’t believe that Sophie’s World had some relevance to our lives, or had emotional or artistic truth to it, then we wouldn't bother to read it (or even look up the LitCharts summary). By the time the book ends, we’ve seen that ideas can have a profound effect on people’s lives. It’s for this reason that the book ends with the image of Sophie—strictly speaking, an imaginary person—“stinging” Hilde—within the context of the book, a “real” person. This is a clever metaphor for the way that ideas, fictions, and abstractions—i.e., all the things that people lazily refer to as “not real”—can influence the way people behave in the real world.
COMING OF AGE
Sophie’s World isn’t just a history of philosophy. It’s also the story of how two people, a young woman named Sophie Amundsen and another young woman named Hilde Møller Knag, come to apply philosophy to their own lives. In this sense, the novel is a coming-of-age story: a dramatization of how Sophie and Hilde use their educations to gain a new sense of maturity and self-control.
As in any good coming-of-age story, Sophie and Hilde—lonely girls with brusque mothers and absentee fathers—need to find role models and parent figures to guide them along the path to maturity. In one sense, Sophie’s World shows how philosophy itself can be a “father figure”—a source of comfort, emotional support, and solace. Sophie’s mentor, Alberto Knox, is a personification of philosophy itself (as well as a riff on his creator, Albert Knag). But Alberto isn’t just Sophie’s teacher—he’s also her friend. This suggests that the purpose of Sophie and Hilde’s education isn’t just to understand philosophy; the purpose is to learn how to interact with others.
What kind of educations do Sophie and Hilde receive from their mentors? From the very beginning, it’s made clear that Sophie will not be learning about ordinary, day-to-day matters—there’s no economics or health in this syllabus. In this sense, Sophie’s contrasts with the work that she does in school, and with the lifestyle she sees at home, personified by her rather dull-minded Mom. There’s a strong sense that “education,” at least as Sophie’s schoolteachers understand it, has impoverished Sophie’s soul, leaving her lonely and unable to cope with the deep questions of life. After we learn that Hilde is reading Sophie’s story, we realize that the purpose of Sophie’s philosophy lessons is to teach Hilde how to live. Hilde is a lonely child—she doesn’t seem to get along with her mother, and she’s rarely shown interacting with friends or classmates. Hilde’s father, Albert Knag, has written Sophie’s World for Hilde, suggesting that he understands her loneliness and frustration (Sophie is meant to be a portrait of his daughter), and wants to teach her to cope with her emotions using philosophy. In short, philosophy isn’t just a new form of information—it’s also a method of coming to grips with one’s feelings, and learning how to live.
As Hilde and Sophie’s relationships with their mentors would suggest, philosophy shows us how to live by teaching us how to interact with other people. By the end of the novel, Hilde has learned how to empathize with Sophie, despite the fact that Sophie is a fictional character: Gaarder portrays this act of empathy as a clear sign of Hilde’s emotional maturity. Hilde also reunites with her father using philosophy as her tool: she turns the tables on him by planting letters at Albert’s airport, confusing him into thinking that his world might be an illusion as well. Although it might seem like Hilde is being disobedient or cruel to her father, she’s actually showing her affection for him, and proving that she’s embraced the philosophy lessons he’s sent her. In the final scene of the novel, Hilde and Albert sit together, talking about the history of the universe: a symbol of the way that philosophy, unlikely as it sounds, can bring families together.
In this way, philosophy ends up being more practical than it seems. After she finishes her philosophy curriculum, Hilde isn’t “all grown up” in any traditional sense (she’s still living at home, still in school, still uncertain about colleges or careers, etc.), but she’s demonstrated her intelligence, her thoughtfulness, and—most importantly—her love for her fictional friends and her real-life father. In this way, philosophy helps her come of age.
FREE WILL
It’s probably fair to say that the most important and relevant philosophical question in Sophie’s World is “what is real?” but the question “what is freedom?” is nearly as important. As Sophie Amundsen becomes aware that her “world” is a literary creation in the mind of Albert Knag, she begins to wonder if she has any real freedom—any control over her own actions. And this question is by no means limited to Sophie and her peers. As Hilde Møller Knag reads Sophie’s story, she too begins to question her own freedom: are her actions truly her own, or are they somehow predetermined? Readers of Sophie’s World might well ask themselves the same thing. In order to address some of these issues, Sophie’s World studies and organizes the different concepts of freedom that Western philosophers have dealt with.
One kind of freedom that the novel addresses right away is the freedom to do what one likes. This is an intuitive definition, but Alberto Knox, Sophie’s mentor, takes pains to show right away why it’s not necessarily the best definition. As Plato and Socrates argued thousands of years ago, obeying one’s impulses—hunger, lust, etc.—is its own kind of slavery (think of being a “slave to fashion” or a “slave to appearances”). Sophie’s World also addresses other kinds of mental slavery. Sophie’s Mom, for example, is so devoted to performing her petty responsibilities that she’s lost touch with the “big picture”—she’s no longer interested in philosophical question at all. By the end of the book it’s clear that these two forms of slavery are one and the same: the birthday party that Sophie’s mother fussily organizes for Sophie devolves into a disgusting spectacle in which Sophie’s classmates give in to their instincts and act like animals. The novel suggests that the freedom of doing what one wants is overrated: first, because this freedom is its own kind of slavery (as in Plato); second, because this kind of freedom is just an illusion, one that would vanish if we had the mental capacity to understand all the causes and effects at work in our lives (see Spinoza). If we define freedom in this way then we, the readers, are no freer than Sophie or her peers.
It’s clear enough that Sophie—whether she’s a fictional character or not—is more free than her mother or her classmates. But if this is true, what kind of freedom does she embody? While the novel doesn’t exactly put forth a “correct” interpretation of free will, it does suggest that humans can find freedom from causation and freedom from their appetites by contemplating the world of ideas. Ideas are unchanging—or, even if they do change over time (as in Hegel), they must be rigorously scrutinized, anyway. By living a life based around this kind of close contemplation, people can escape the banality of their daily existences and attain a kind of self-control, as well as control over their actions—in short, freedom. We see this literally toward the end of the novel, when Sophie and Alberto free themselves from the chaos of Sophie’s birthday party by escaping the story itself.
There’s one final sense in which Sophie’s World challenges our usual understanding of free will. It’s certainly possible to believe that the universe is controlled by an all-powerful figure, whether that figure is God or an author. But the novel suggests that even if such a figure exists, there’s no “hierarchy” of freedom—i.e., the author figure is no more or less free than his creations. We see this clearly by the end of the novel, when Sophie and Hilde seem to have reversed positions: Sophie appears to be free of any authorial control, while Hilde is still very much under the thumb of an author-figure, even if that figure is her own father (or Gaarder himself). If this is possible—if fictional characters can be freer than their creators, and if there’s more freedom in imagination than in the real world—then the only real freedom comes from philosophy and the world of ideas. By learning about ethics, epistemology, and so on, Sophie and Hilde might gain free will after all.
ARE THERE ANY OTHER THEMES YOU NOTICED? IF SO ELABORATE!
In the novel many philosophical problems are presented to Sophie and the reader:
Who am I?
Do we have free will?
What can we know?
The novel does not attempt to answer these questions, but provides the reader with some background knowledge of how these questions came to be in our history. It is your turn to pose a philosophical question and attempt to do the same as the author. So much in our world has changed since the publication of this novel, the world around us is changing in ways that might bring some of these questions back into play.
Pose a philosophical question, either new or an old question posed using what is happening in the world today. Then write a chapter based on your question and incorporate Sophie or Hilde or any other character into the chapter. Think how the author wove the characters and the information together. He was able to create scenarios that mirrored what he wanted you to know. This is pretty high-level thinking, so it will take time to formulate a good chapter, and you will need to do some research to be sure you are current with your information.
Ill-structured problems are meant to pose questions and initiate research. You become the investigator, much like Sophie and Hilde were investigating their worlds and the new world of philosophy.
Your ill-structured problem is this:
"A philosophy professor must determine the most important philosopher to teach their students. This is a daunting task as there have been many memorable philosophers throughout time who have contributed much to our ways of thinking, living, learning, etc., etc. How will you determine which philosopher is worthy of the most teaching time? "
Your task is this:
What questions must you ask in order to answer this problem? What research must you do in order to construct a viable solution to this problem? How will you defend one choice as the best with the given circumstances? The problem is clearly incomplete - much more information is needed to understand the exact nature of the situation. Experts may disagree on the solution, often because they may disagree on the criteria to use to judge the best solution, so how will you determine the criteria to judge the solution?
Things to think about as you attempt your solution:
Am I taking a broad enough view of this problem?
Have I considered all of the possibilities or have I limited my options too soon?
Am I being open-minded to all of the possibilities?
What strategy should I use to analyze this information I have gathered - do I need a new way to look at the information?
Steps you might take:
Inquiry and investigation - this is when you research and compile your research in some way that works for you. You analyze the data and make connections between the research and the problem.
Problem Definition - once you understand the research a bit better, you might understand the true nature of the problem. At this point you can provide a clear definition of the problem presented to you, including issues that need to be resolved and any constraints that might limit your options.
Resolution - you will develop options to solve the problem. There may be many good ideas, but not all are useful. At this point, rather than concern yourself with right or wrong, think about better or worse solutions in the circumstances.
Debrief - once you resolve the problem, review your pathway to the problem, the content you learned, other issues that came up because of this learning, and what helped or hindered your process or progress.
Learning Issues Board - use this as a tool to keep track of your progress
1. What do we know about the situation?
2. What do I need to learn to understand the situation better? What questions will help me figure out if these ideas are valid?
3. How can I get the answers to my questions? What techniques or tools will help me make sense of the information I have gathered?
4. How will I present my solution to the problem?