About the Author

Abigail L. Rosenthal is Professor Emerita at Brooklyn College of The City University of New York. She is the author of Confessions of A Young Philosopher (forthcoming), the story of a life lived in the presence of good and evil. She writes a weekly online column, "Dear Abbie: The Non-Advice Column," where she explains why women's lives are highly interesting. Many of her articles are accessible at https: //brooklyn-cuny.academia.edu/AbigailMartin. She edited The Consolations of Philosophy: Hobbes's Secret, Spinoza's Way by her father, the late Henry M. Rosenthal. Her next book will be Conversations With My Father. She is married to Jerry L. Martin, also a philosopher. They live in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. She can be reached a dearabbiesilvousplait@gmail.com.



Author's website

Reviews

Reading a book without filtering it through the biases and fears of one's own time is difficult enough, and you'd think that a book with a focus on the concept of "evil" would be able to analyze its topic in a mutually shared understanding if not objective definition that would hold up across time and cultures.
And you'd be wrong about all of that.
Evil, perhaps like stupidity, is not easily defined. Wouldn't you just assume that something as pervasive, menacing and potentially (if not actually) personally and socially destructive as "evil" would be immediately recognized, like the emergence of some lethal bacterial invader, and dealt with as fully and comprehensively as possible at its first sighting?
But no, evil - on levels we can barely recognize - on a scale sometimes not too small, but too large - loom over any and every society now and then, and like any pernicious disease, no one is immune and every society, no matter its safeguards, is vulnerable.
And like any infectious disease, evil begins slowly, takes a foothold and expands, slowly and barely noticeable at first and then, if not recognized, begins to flourish in dark and neglected plae and finally emerges strong and resistant.
Like the great plagues, forms of evil can define an era or a culture.
And evil, like disease, (or even stupidity) is no abstraction. Evil distorts, deceives, captivates, and ultimately consumes its victims, which again, can be any of us.
This book is not for everyone. Some will find it hard to read, others will discover that they, despite their denials, justifications and protestations, actually love and cultivate evil.
Eventually they, and possibly we, will pay the cost, but until they go off the proverbial cliff or enter the fire and fury of their own making, they will preserve their "opinion" or "values". Hell, I am sure, is packed with people defined by their certainty and "faith" in some unyielding cause or convincing personality.
We have seen this many times before, we will see it again - and, I am convinced, we are seeing it right now.
It's hard for me to believe that this book was written over thirty years ago, its warnings - and examples - could have been taken from today's front pages and today's cast of characters eager to convince, cajole and frighten us into believing the worst of each other- and ourselves.
In America in particular, a land which has (almost) always prided itself on being a land of justice, equality and opportunity, evil - obvious, tangible and blatant evil, has taken root and flourished to a degree most of us never would have imagined possible.
Many people I know have rushed to embrace it. They are intoxicated and inspired by it. They, like the devotees of Ceasars, Kaisers and Fuhrers before them are convinced that they know "the One" who will save them. Their rush to their own ashes is truly frightening. And history shows us that the destruction they wreak will not only be their own.
Unlike Hannah Arendt, Rosenthal does not believe that evil is banal - she is convinced that it is intentional - an intentional thwarting - if not destruction - of the narrative, the story we tell ourselves about who we are as individuals, as a culture as a nation.
The stories I grew up with - of my country (USA) and faith (Christianity) could not feel more alien than the distortions I currently see and hear constantly.
Where is the America that told itself - and the world - that it was the welcoming home of fugitives and refugees from persecution and oppression? Where is the faith that held up compassion and generosity as ideals - not as signs of weakness.
America was the land of opportunity and a place where laws were applied equally. N