Beckett and Buddhism undertakes a twenty-first-century reassessment of the Buddhist resonances in Samuel Beckett's writing. These reverberations, as Angela Moorjani demonstrates, originated in his early reading of Schopenhauer. Drawing on letters and archives along with recent studies of Buddhist thought and Schopenhauer's knowledge of it, the book charts the Buddhist concepts circling through Beckett's visions of the 'human predicament' in a blend of tears and laughter. Moorjani offers an in-depth elucidation of texts that are shown to intersect with the negative and paradoxical path of the Buddha, which she sets in dialogue with Western thinking. She brings further perspectives from cognitive philosophy and science to bear on creative emptiness, the illusory 'I', and Beckett's probing of the writing process. Readers will benefit from this far-reaching study of one of the most acclaimed writers of the twentieth century who explored uncharted topologies in his fiction, theatre, and poetry.

Applies an understanding of Zen Buddhism to the 'absurdity' of Beckett, which is seen as an expression of deepest spiritual anguish.

In many ways, Buddhism has become the global religion of the modern world. For its contemporary followers, the ideal of enlightenment promises inner peace and worldly harmony. And whereas other philosophies feel abstract and disembodied, Buddhism offers meditation as a means to realize this ideal. If we could all be as enlightened as Buddhists, some imagine, we could live in a much better world. For some time now, however, this beatific image of Buddhism has been under attack. Scholars and practitioners have criticized it as a Western fantasy that has nothing to do with the actual experiences of Buddhists. Avram Alpert combines personal experience and readings of modern novels to offer another way to understand modern Buddhism. He argues that it represents a rich resource not for attaining perfection but rather for finding meaning and purpose in a chaotic world. Finding unexpected affinities across world literature—Rudyard Kipling in colonial India, Yukio Mishima in postwar Japan, Bessie Head escaping apartheid South Africa—as well as in his own experiences living with Tibetan exiles, Alpert shows how these stories illuminate a world in which suffering is inevitable and total enlightenment is impossible. Yet they also give us access to partial enlightenments: powerful insights that become available when we come to terms with imperfection and stop looking for wholeness. A Partial Enlightenment reveals the moments of personal and social transformation that the inventions of modern Buddhism help make possible.

The last few decades seem to have begun what has been called 'the childless revolution'. In developed countries, increasingly people are choosing not to have children. The causes of this 'revolution' are many including the belief that to create a new life is to subject someone unnecessarily, and without their consent, to life's many sufferings including death. This belief and its underlying philosophy is known as anti-natalism. There has been a recent resurgence of this philosophy, with David Benatar's book Better Never To Have Been (2006) as a major catalyst. Anti-natalism can be seen as part of a broader philosophy, described here as Rejectionism, which finds existence -directly or indirectly, i.e. as procreation - as deeply problematic and unacceptable. The book traces the development of this philosophy from its ancient religious roots in Hinduism (Moksha) and Buddhism (Nirvana) to its most modern articulation by the South African philosopher David Benatar. It examines the contribution to rejectionist thought by Schopenhauer and von Hartmann in the 19th century and Zapffe, a little known Norwegian thinker, in the 20th century, and most recently by Benatar. Benatar and Zapffe represent this approach most clearly as anti-natalism. The book also devotes a chapter to the literary expression of rejectionist philosophy in the works of Samuel Beckett and J.P.Sartre. In sum, far from being an esoteric doctrine rejectionism has been a major presence in human history straddling all three major cultural forms - religious, philosophical and literary. The book argues that anti-natal philosophy and its practice owe a great deal to three major developments: secularization, liberalization of social attitudes, and technological advances (contraception). Anti-natal attitudes and practice should therefore be seen as a part of 'progress' in that these developments are widening our choice of lifestyles and attitudes to existence. In sum, The book argues that anti-natalism needs to be taken seriously and considered as a legitimate view of a modern, secular civilization. Secondly, the book seeks to situate current anti-natalist thought in its historical and philosophical perspective. Finally, it argues that in order to develop anti-natalism further it needs to be institutionalized as a form rational 'philosophy of life', and more attention needs to be paid to the problems and prospect of putting this philosophy into practice.

Rebuilding Buddhism describes in evocative detail the experiences and achievements of Nepalis who have adopted Theravada Buddhism. This form of Buddhism was introduced into Nepal from Burma and Sri Lanka in the 1930s, and its adherents have struggled for recognition and acceptance ever since. With its focus on the austere figure of the monk and the biography of the historical Buddha, and more recently with its emphasis on individualizing meditation and on gender equality, Theravada Buddhism contrasts sharply with the highly ritualized Tantric Buddhism traditionally practiced in the Kathmandu Valley. Based on extensive fieldwork, interviews, and historical reconstruction, the book provides a rich portrait of the different ways of being a Nepali Buddhist over the past seventy years. At the same time it explores the impact of the Theravada movement and what its gradual success has meant for Buddhism, for society, and for men and women in Nepal.

In the 1930s, a young Samuel Beckett confessed to a friend that he had been living his life according to an ‘abject self-referring quietism’. Andy Wimbush argues that ‘quietism’—a philosophical and religious attitude of renunciation and will-lessness—is a key to understanding Beckett’s artistic vision and the development of his career as a fiction writer from his early novels Dream of Fair to Middling Women and Murphy to late short prose texts such as Stirrings Still and Company. Using Beckett’s published and archival material, Still: Samuel Beckett’s Quietism shows how Beckett distilled an understanding of quietism from the work of Arthur Schopenhauer, E.M. Cioran, Thomas à Kempis, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and André Gide, before turning it into an aesthetic that would liberate him from the powerful literary traditions of nineteenth-century realism and early twentieth-century high modernism. Quietism, argues Andy Wimbush, was for Beckett a lifelong preoccupation that shaped his perspectives on art, relationships, ethics, and even notions of salvation. But most of all it showed Beckett a way to renounce authorial power and write from a position of impotence, ignorance, and incoherence so as to produce a new kind of fiction that had, in Molloy’s words, the ‘tranquility of decomposition’.

In this sound-bite history of the concept of nothing, distinguished journalist Konner, author of the bestselling "The Atheist's Bible," has created a unique anthology devoted to, well, nothing.