The enigma of the linking phrase “in and of” does not lie in its complexity or obscurity (it is neither complex nor obscure) but in its selection over other, seemingly similar, phrases. Why, for instance, is it “in and of” instead of “in or of”? Why wouldn’t “within” be preferred? Or why not simply “in” or “of”?
The preceding discussion of thirdness and extraordinary experience hint at the value of the conjunctive “and” over the disjunctive “or.” The latter suggests that meaningful experience can be either a direct experience in a space without an orienting cognitive/narrative framework (the “in”) or the acquisition and pondering of a cognitive/narrative framework without the context of direct sensory engagement (the “of”). Clearly both are required components of the triadic structure of extraordinary experience.
This line of reasoning suggests why “in and of” is appropriate but does not answer why the phrase shouldn’t be simplified to “in” or “of” or replaced by “within” or some other word for the sake of economy.
Allow me to approach the problem first from what seems immediately to be the wrong word: “at.” I could hardly say that I had an experience “at” the Pantheon without dismissing the role played by the constellation of materials and patterns around me. “At” is circumstantial at best. “In” alone is hardly better. That I played billiards in my grandparents’ basement is true but trivial. I could have played billiards in any space without radically altering the experience of playing billiards. “Within” is better than “in” alone. “Within” places emphasis on the container that “in,” in its normal usage, doesn’t. When I say, “I wept within the Pantheon” or “I experienced a sense of mystery within my grandparents’ basement” I highlight a relationship between experience and place that “in” and certainly “at” fail to capture.
So why not stop there? “Within” is serviceable. Like an operator in a formula, however, a word can serve a purpose and contribute to the formation of sentences that are correct while still being incomplete. The extraordinary experiences I had inside the Pantheon and my grandparents’ basement relied significantly on qualities of place – which the words “at,” “in,” “of,” and even “within” fail to communicate adequately. Moreover, these experiences relied on narrative/cognitive structures I brought with me, thus predating both direct experience and the third experience that constitutes what we think of as experience in general and extraordinary ones in particular. The use of “in” or “of” alone undermines thirdness by underselling or overselling respectively the value of direct sensory intake.
While other formulations are possible and the linguistic trope uncomfortable, “in and of” is important insofar as it forces attention on the constituent aspects of reflective experience. But it is still incomplete. What this formulation leaves out is the additive nature of thirdness. As a corrective, the word “constructed” should be appended to the hypothesis in its next iteration – at least temporarily – in favor of completeness over economy.
Architecture is Fiction 