A sketch of Gilbert Ryle

 I’m reading M.W. Rowe’s biography of J.L. Austin because I’m interested in ordinary language philosophy. I’d recommend the book, although I know that my enthusiasm for the subject is not widely shared.

Still, there’s some wonderful writing. Here’s a sketch of Gilbert Ryle, whose book The Concept of Mind, published in 1949, is often cited as an early example of this approach to philosophy.

 

Tall and upright (he had been a rower in his youth), Ryle had a box-like, knobbly head and a strong face — with a shallow slightly jutting jaw, and a wide thin-lipped mouth whose corners gradually turned downwards as he aged. Not a man given to introspection, he tended to be brusque, punctuating his sentences with a distinctive half-cough, and seeming to bark answers to question. Although the general impression was semi-military, most found him an exceptionally nice man — decent, uncondescending, unpretentious, generous with his time, and concerned to notice people who were likely to be overlooked. …

In cultural matters, he affected a breezy no-nonsense philistinism saying, for example, that he had no ear for tunes, although he made an exception for literature and deeply admired Jane Austen. When asked whether he ever read novels, he replied ‘Oh yes. All six. Every year,’ and he himself developed an excellent prose style, characterized by epigrams and lists.

 

If this were a character in a short story, I’d keep reading.

• Source: M.W. Rowe, J.L. Austin: Philosopher & D-Day Intelligence Officer; Oxford University Press, 2023, pp. 392-3. For more on this book, see “Reading your way into it,” Nov. 6, 2023, and “Intelligence officers, philosophers and eccentrics,” Nov. 7, 2023.