Paul took a good class picture. Just look. There's his ready smile. There's the twinkle in his eyes that was just as authentic. You could just sit and talk to Paul, or argue some fine point academic point. Didn't matter, you invariably enjoyed the exchange. It is still unsettling that he got to live such a small portion of a life he so obviously enjoyed.
Paul Prinzhorn came to Swarthmore not just as a philosophy student, but as a philosopher. He explained Husserl and phenomenology. He argued forcefully and with passion. He had a great sense of humor. He was an adventurer, not content to stay within the womb-like confines of our beautiful campus. He ventured often to Beaver College where he met a woman who spoke in poetry. He discovered the remarkable Buffy St. Marie before many of us had heard of her. She now lives in Kauai. He introduced me to the coquettish Mary Jane. The story that I heard about his violent passing may have been urban myth. But it was remarkably within character. He confronted his mugger in a parking lot in Newark, and succumbed to a stabbing. Not many would have such righteous anger and courage. I often wonder about the cruel injustice, strange irony, and sad, untimely demise of a prince.
Rob’s remembrances of Paul stirred him up once again..….. Paul was one of those people whom I was in awe of. He had a depth and purity and intensity and mystery that was magnetically attractive. He seemed the most centered person I had ever met in my short life up to that time. Turtles all the way down. Oh to be like Paul. The grace. The centeredness. He was a star quarterback in high school but opted not to play in college. Paul and I shared an off-campus apartment during senior year. That summer, he had one of those special Swarthmore fellowships (with Charles Raff as his advisor I think) to do a project on the phenomenology philosophers— Husserl, Heidigger, et al. (I may have the chronology wrong but the gist is right). Although I tried, I could not understand any of it. Rob recounted the circumstances of his death. The world was deprived far before its time of a force majeure, an unquenchable flame; and Paul missed out on so much.
Finally writing about Paul, 50 years on. I had many important exchanges with Paul, sometimes as roommate, other times just as friend & colleague,,, over the 3rd or 4th dinner in Sharples late at night, or breakfast in Mary Lyon, driving around the country out there, sometimes taking excursions to places I could not have imagined, like the Lower East Side's squalid gritty glaring and - unsettling - parts, and with our mutual friends. Actually, it was rare that an exchange with Paul was not important, memorable. Never met anyone like him; I can't imagine that happening, actually. We seemed to come from quite different, though partially-overlapping worlds. He opened many of those for me; some were intellectually daunting , like Husserl. Some were really frightening to me at the time, but I won't go into details. Coming from white bread Boulder, Colorado, I really didn't know that people actually did some of the things he did, spoke of, and showed me. Also seeing his home town & surroundings, mother and house . . . All part of that amazing stuff that I, like many, got from being there (Swarthmore). Once I and Lucy stayed in Mark & Paul's off-campus apartment when we returned early, before the dorms were opened, for a couple days during Christmas break. We had to crawl through a window on the fire escape for some reason I can't recall. Such a group of people! Mary Lyon dorms - really a whole "other" experience of Swarthmore, I think.
It was really devastating to hear of his demise so shortly after Swarthmore, and in such brutality. But it did not seem out of character. Paul was one who listened to the advice, "if you're not living on the edge, you are taking up too much room," and seems to have repeated something like it to me. If any philosopher would be stabbed to death, it would be Paul. Bruce Tift and I, who in Junior year shared the 6 person suite in ML4 with Paul, Al Brauch and others I'm just not remembering due to the emotion of this moment were appalled and stunned. Such a loss. Really sad, but knowing him makes it, well, barely bearable.
Jeffrey Carter
Paul took a good class picture. Just look. There's his ready smile. There's the twinkle in his eyes that was just as authentic. You could just sit and talk to Paul, or argue some fine point academic point. Didn't matter, you invariably enjoyed the exchange. It is still unsettling that he got to live such a small portion of a life he so obviously enjoyed.
David Cohen
Paul was a wise and gentle soul. Easy to be with easy to talk to. I remember him with tremendous affection.
Robert E. Pollock
Paul Prinzhorn came to Swarthmore not just as a philosophy student, but as a philosopher. He explained Husserl and phenomenology. He argued forcefully and with passion. He had a great sense of humor. He was an adventurer, not content to stay within the womb-like confines of our beautiful campus. He ventured often to Beaver College where he met a woman who spoke in poetry. He discovered the remarkable Buffy St. Marie before many of us had heard of her. She now lives in Kauai. He introduced me to the coquettish Mary Jane. The story that I heard about his violent passing may have been urban myth. But it was remarkably within character. He confronted his mugger in a parking lot in Newark, and succumbed to a stabbing. Not many would have such righteous anger and courage. I often wonder about the cruel injustice, strange irony, and sad, untimely demise of a prince.
Mark Smith
Rob’s remembrances of Paul stirred him up once again..….. Paul was one of those people whom I was in awe of. He had a depth and purity and intensity and mystery that was magnetically attractive. He seemed the most centered person I had ever met in my short life up to that time. Turtles all the way down. Oh to be like Paul. The grace. The centeredness. He was a star quarterback in high school but opted not to play in college. Paul and I shared an off-campus apartment during senior year. That summer, he had one of those special Swarthmore fellowships (with Charles Raff as his advisor I think) to do a project on the phenomenology philosophers— Husserl, Heidigger, et al. (I may have the chronology wrong but the gist is right). Although I tried, I could not understand any of it. Rob recounted the circumstances of his death. The world was deprived far before its time of a force majeure, an unquenchable flame; and Paul missed out on so much.
James Waters
Finally writing about Paul, 50 years on. I had many important exchanges with Paul, sometimes as roommate, other times just as friend & colleague,,, over the 3rd or 4th dinner in Sharples late at night, or breakfast in Mary Lyon, driving around the country out there, sometimes taking excursions to places I could not have imagined, like the Lower East Side's squalid gritty glaring and - unsettling - parts, and with our mutual friends. Actually, it was rare that an exchange with Paul was not important, memorable. Never met anyone like him; I can't imagine that happening, actually. We seemed to come from quite different, though partially-overlapping worlds. He opened many of those for me; some were intellectually daunting , like Husserl. Some were really frightening to me at the time, but I won't go into details. Coming from white bread Boulder, Colorado, I really didn't know that people actually did some of the things he did, spoke of, and showed me. Also seeing his home town & surroundings, mother and house . . . All part of that amazing stuff that I, like many, got from being there (Swarthmore). Once I and Lucy stayed in Mark & Paul's off-campus apartment when we returned early, before the dorms were opened, for a couple days during Christmas break. We had to crawl through a window on the fire escape for some reason I can't recall. Such a group of people! Mary Lyon dorms - really a whole "other" experience of Swarthmore, I think.
It was really devastating to hear of his demise so shortly after Swarthmore, and in such brutality. But it did not seem out of character. Paul was one who listened to the advice, "if you're not living on the edge, you are taking up too much room," and seems to have repeated something like it to me. If any philosopher would be stabbed to death, it would be Paul. Bruce Tift and I, who in Junior year shared the 6 person suite in ML4 with Paul, Al Brauch and others I'm just not remembering due to the emotion of this moment were appalled and stunned. Such a loss. Really sad, but knowing him makes it, well, barely bearable.