I tend to think you’re right, though I’d say that art, by indirect means (symbol, rhythm, shape) points us to truths. (Which is of course sneaks in some tacit religious premises.)
I wonder if Mr. Brooks would have been as moved had the artist been "Unknown" and the Parable of the Prodigal Son been equally Unknown? Better yet, what if he saw the painting in reproduction in an Art History text? I think not. Would he have been as affected had he not known the life circumstances of the Unknown artist? I think that Brooks reaction is as much based on his a priori knowledge as the painting itself. Great Art is as varied as the person who sees, reads, listens. It is the interaction between the viewer and the object that results in a moment of pure self realization of condition. It is Paul struck on the road; it's not dependent on race, gender, nationality... but a condition of humankind. Despite the universality of condition, it operates on a singular experience. Knowledge of the circumstances of the objects creation certainly biases the reaction. Does it make the world a better place? As an antidote to Brooks, I suggest an article in last weekend's WSJ Review Section page 3. The author is a former Guggenheim Museum Guard.
Literature is for those who are prepared to read literature. It alone doesn’t make us better. It’s a combination of being ready to read it and being equipped to absorb it. That means being educated in the “tent poles” of civilization (Western, Eastern, and whatever else you have the time to absorb (Guy Davenport would include the European Paleozoic and I wouldn’t know that but for you and my being prepared to absorb). This readiness and ability to absorb is rare in my world (perhaps quite not so rare in yours) but it came as a shock to me that a friend of my brought up George Saunders in conversation this past weekend when mentioning Russian literature. You find a ready audience in me, and my capacity to absorb it (or why anyone has this capacity) likely will remain a mystery; I’m not religious but I respect and am interested in and stand willing to absorb the messages that are a part of what we believe is our literature. And I will be ready to read and absorb your forthcoming book. But I suspect my understanding of why there are a small percentage of us who read and enjoy literature will remain a mystery to me.
Your line on reading great literature and an English Department meeting was wonderful.
As for me, it is my habit to go to museums to see man's accomplishments, as opposed to reading the news and reading about his failures. That is a paraphrase of at the time, Governor Earl Warren's thoughts on reading the news paper, only he started with the sports section.
I have read Callard's essay, Brian, and vaguely remember thinking it was of a kind with the moral arguments for art, but I could be mistaken. Will give it a re-read. Thanks for bringing it back to my attention! And great line from Montaigne!
I tend to think you’re right, though I’d say that art, by indirect means (symbol, rhythm, shape) points us to truths. (Which is of course sneaks in some tacit religious premises.)
I wonder if Mr. Brooks would have been as moved had the artist been "Unknown" and the Parable of the Prodigal Son been equally Unknown? Better yet, what if he saw the painting in reproduction in an Art History text? I think not. Would he have been as affected had he not known the life circumstances of the Unknown artist? I think that Brooks reaction is as much based on his a priori knowledge as the painting itself. Great Art is as varied as the person who sees, reads, listens. It is the interaction between the viewer and the object that results in a moment of pure self realization of condition. It is Paul struck on the road; it's not dependent on race, gender, nationality... but a condition of humankind. Despite the universality of condition, it operates on a singular experience. Knowledge of the circumstances of the objects creation certainly biases the reaction. Does it make the world a better place? As an antidote to Brooks, I suggest an article in last weekend's WSJ Review Section page 3. The author is a former Guggenheim Museum Guard.
Literature is for those who are prepared to read literature. It alone doesn’t make us better. It’s a combination of being ready to read it and being equipped to absorb it. That means being educated in the “tent poles” of civilization (Western, Eastern, and whatever else you have the time to absorb (Guy Davenport would include the European Paleozoic and I wouldn’t know that but for you and my being prepared to absorb). This readiness and ability to absorb is rare in my world (perhaps quite not so rare in yours) but it came as a shock to me that a friend of my brought up George Saunders in conversation this past weekend when mentioning Russian literature. You find a ready audience in me, and my capacity to absorb it (or why anyone has this capacity) likely will remain a mystery; I’m not religious but I respect and am interested in and stand willing to absorb the messages that are a part of what we believe is our literature. And I will be ready to read and absorb your forthcoming book. But I suspect my understanding of why there are a small percentage of us who read and enjoy literature will remain a mystery to me.
Your line on reading great literature and an English Department meeting was wonderful.
As for me, it is my habit to go to museums to see man's accomplishments, as opposed to reading the news and reading about his failures. That is a paraphrase of at the time, Governor Earl Warren's thoughts on reading the news paper, only he started with the sports section.
Wonderful! I hate the moral- utilitarian case for art. The art has to justify itself because it makes David Brooks feel better about himself mindset.
I have read Callard's essay, Brian, and vaguely remember thinking it was of a kind with the moral arguments for art, but I could be mistaken. Will give it a re-read. Thanks for bringing it back to my attention! And great line from Montaigne!