This book contains excerpts and essays written by a number of writers who’ve been identified with Existentialism. Apparently, no one wanted to be identified with the new philosophy; furthermore, the common thread between these authors is the analytical method associated with this movement, but they were interested in different questions. Some of them are simply writers who revealed Existentialist ideas through their characters; several were theologians looking for a way to find the roots of Christianity; it wasn’t until Sartre that someone called themself an Existentialist.

These authors (except the professional writers like Dostoevsky and Camus) write horribly; even the best of the philosophers (Sartre) wrote obscurely, whatever he was trying to say lost in recursive, circular reasoning that abused common words like “being” to the point of insanity. His fiction was fine, however, which leads me to conclude that these serious thinkers were struggling to describe what today might be called “mindfulness”, by which I do not mean meditation but, rather, awareness of the whole mind-body system and how it is impacted by our actions and thoughts. I could be way off base there because I really couldn’t say what Existentialism is, after reading these critical works.

But I don’t feel too bad because this was a complaint mentioned by Kaufmann (a renowned philosopher); Existentialism isn’t a dogma or ideology, but instead an incomplete and abstract approach to being in yourself and true to who you really are all the time.

I’ve heard various rumors about several of the authors included in this anthology (especially Nietzsche and Sartre), but the editor addressed some of these in the prefaces. I think, from this brief introduction, that their ideas changed over time and the statements accredited to them are both taken out of context and from earlier periods of their careers, when they were more likely to say outlandish things for the hell of it.

I can’t really recommend this book because so many of the essays are unintelligible; however, I wrote copious notes within its pages and plan to revisit it.

I hate finishing a book and don’t know what it was about …