2,793 works, 150 years of economic thought. Each one summarized and searchable, with cited passages inside.
A young governess at a country house, forbidden ever to appeal to her absent employer, resolves to master the good and evil around her by her own will, and this, in Voegelin's reading of Henry James's novella, is the drama of a demonically closed soul. Employer, governess, and housekeeper stand for God, soul, and earthly common sense; the intercepted letters and the apparitions of Quint mark a theology of non-communication in which salvation becomes self-salvation without grace. The title names not heroic discipline but the escalation of willful virtue into destruction, a 'Black Salvation' that kills the boy it means to save. A 1970 postscript, printed with the 1947 letter, refuses to translate James's symbols into philosophy and instead reads Bly as one more modern Eden, a genteel English garden of closed existence.
Henry James could be fascinated by Edenic existence, but he knew that it was the hell of living death.
Classical philology, in Wolf's old definition, is the study of human nature as it became manifest in the Greeks, a formula Voegelin finds has grown strange, because specialization and Western 'deculturation' have made the study of man's nature itself suspect. Against the modern faith in limitless historical transformation he restores the Greek movement from doxa to episteme, the metaleptic tension of existence toward the divine ground, and education as Platonic peri-agoge, a turning-around, over against a schooling that merely adjusts students to the reigning climate of opinion. Opinion does not stay harmless, he warns: it becomes the murderous reality of the gas chambers. The Greek differentiation of reason, he concludes, fixed standards for the exploration of consciousness behind which no one is permitted to fall back.
There is a nature of man, a definite structure of existence that puts limits on perfectibility.
Bossuet still divides sacred from profane history; Voltaire makes Christianity one episode in the advance of the human spirit, and with that shift, traced through this volume, salvation migrates inside history. Assembled from an unpublished history of political ideas, the argument runs from that opening contrast through Helvétius's sensualist anthropology of closure and the positivism of d'Alembert, Turgot, and Condorcet to Comte's Religion of Humanity and its Grand-Être. Progress becomes eschatology without God, a theogony of substitutes, reason, humanity, nation, class. The French Revolution appears as anti-Christian political religion, Bakunin as naked revolutionary nihilism, and Marx as a gnostic socialist whose dialectical materialism, Voegelin argues, refuses to theorize at all. One shared closure against transcendence links positivism, anarchism, communism, and National Socialism into a single genealogy of modern political religion.
The climax of this is the magic dream of creating the Superman, the man-made Being that will succeed the sorry creature of God's making.
Where does a beginning begin? Voegelin's posthumous and unfinished fifth volume of Order and History — presented here in the German translation of the 1987 English original — opens with the paradox that a first sentence becomes a true beginning only once the whole has reached its end. From this he unfolds his late account of consciousness as both intentional, directed toward things, and luminous, an event within the encompassing reality it seeks; the human site of participation is Plato's metaxy. Reading Genesis 1, Hesiod's Mnemosyne, and Plato's Timaeus, he sets reflective distance against Hegel's reflective identity, diagnosing German idealism's system as an imaginative forgetting of existence in tension toward the Beyond. Order, he insists, is never possessed as doctrine but sustained as existential balance within an unfinished search.
Es gibt keine autonome, nicht-paradoxe Sprache, die als Zeichensystem bereitliegt, um vom Menschen benutzt zu werden, wenn er sich auf die paradoxen Strukturen von Realität und Bewußtsein beziehen will.
English translation: “There is no autonomous, non-paradoxical language ready at hand as a system of signs to be used by man when he wishes to refer to the paradoxical structures of reality and consciousness.”
Imperial Vienna after the collapse of the Habsburg monarchy — Kelsen's Pure Theory of Law, Mises's seminar, the Geistkreis, Freud's circle — forms the opening scene of these recollections, dictated from 1973 interviews and read less as memoir than as intellectual anamnesis. Voegelin narrates his passage through neo-Kantian legal theory, a brief youthful Marxism, and Max Weber's value-free science toward a lifelong effort to recover political science from ideology. Dismissal after the 1938 Anschluss and a narrow escape from the Gestapo turn the story into diagnosis: National Socialism as a deformation of reason and language that constructs "second realities" and forbids questioning. The collapse of his projected History of Political Ideas drives the decisive turn — from detachable ideas to the experiences from which symbols arise.
Ideologies are not science, and ideals are no substitute for ethics.
Beneath the visible institutions of the West runs a thousand-year undercurrent of revolt, and it is this buried drama that the study reconstructs — here in the German translation of Voegelin's unpublished English manuscript "The People of God," expanded after 1947. The governing distinction is between institution and movement: the Church civilizes by objectifying grace sacramentally and compromising with human weakness, while the sect renews the demand for immediate relation to God and evangelical poverty. Tracing Paulicians, Cathars, Hussites, Anabaptists, and Puritans, Voegelin shows how mystical symbols of perfection — apokatastasis, the Third Realm descending from Joachim of Fiore — harden into activist political programs. The result is an eschatological violence, a passage between aeons that runs from A Glimpse of Sion's Glory to Marx, Lenin, and Hitler.
Der Ruf nach Reform wandelt sich nun zu einer Attacke gegen den Geist.
English translation: “The call for reform now turns into an attack against the spirit.”