Or are you a philosopher who will vow never to become so?
If you just shake your head, not recognizing yourself as either a child or a philosopher, then you have gotten so used to the world that it no longer astonishes you. Watch out! You are on thin ice. And this is why you are receiving this course in philosophy, just in case. I will not allow you, of all people, to join the ranks of the apathetic and the indifferent. I want you to have an inquiring mind.
The whole course is free of charge, so you get no money back if you do not complete it. If you choose to break off the course you are free to do so. In that case you must leave a message for me in the mailbox. A live frog would be eminently suitable. Something green, at least, otherwise the mailman might get scared.
To summarize briefly: A white rabbit is pulled out of a top hat. Because it is an extremely large rabbit, the trick takes many billions of years. All mortals are born at the very tip of the rabbit's fine hairs, where they are in a position to wonder at the impossibility of the trick. But as they grow older they work themselves ever deeper into the fur. And there they stay. They become so comfortable they never risk crawling back up the fragile hairs again. Only philosophers embark on this perilous expedition to the outermost reaches of language and existence. Some of them fall off, but others cling on desperately and yell at the people nestling deep in the snug softness, stuffing themselves with delicious food and drink.
"Ladies and gentlemen," they yell, "we are floating in space!" But none of the people down there care.
"What a bunch of troublemakers!" they say. And they keep on chatting: Would you pass the butter, please? How much have our stocks risen today? What is the price of tomatoes? Have you heard that Princess Di is expecting again?
When Sophie's mother got home later that afternoon, Sophie was practically in shock. The tin containing the letters from the mysterious philosopher was safely hidden in the den. Sophie had tried to start her homework but could only sit thinking about what she had read.
She had never thought so hard before! She was no longer a child--but she wasn't really grown up either. Sophie realized that she had already begun to crawl down into the cozy rabbit's fur, the very same rabbit that had been pulled from the top hat of the universe. But the philosopher had stopped her. He--or was it a she?--had grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her up again to the tip of the fur where she had played as a child. And there, on the outermost tips of the fine hairs, she was once again seeing the world as if for the very first time.
The philosopher had rescued her. No doubt about it. The unknown letter writer had saved her from the triviality of everyday existence.
When Mom got home at five o'clock, Sophie dragged her into the living room and pushed her into an armchair.
"Mom--don't you think it's astonishing to be alive?" she began.
Her mother was so surprised that she didn't answer at first. Sophie was usually doing her homework when she got home.
"I suppose I do--sometimes," she said.
"Sometimes? Yes, but--don't you think it's astonishing that the world exists at all?"
"Now look, Sophie. Stop talking like that."
"Why? Perhaps you think the world is quite normal?"
"Well, isn't it? More or less, anyway."
Sophie saw that the philosopher was right. Grownups took the world for granted. They had let themselves be lulled into the enchanted sleep of their humdrum existence once and for all.
"You've just grown so used to the world that nothing surprises you any more."
"What on earth are you talking about?"