On
these pages I will explore things Beautiful, Creative,
Romantic, and Sublime. Today our world is filled with
too much hate, ugliness, indifference, and dispair...I say
we should combat that with beauty, love, and hope. If you
agree, then please enjoy my site.
Ruminating...On
Aesthetics, Sublimity, and Literature
I
am currently an English literature graduate student and instructor
of writing at a university. During the course of my studies I
have learned about all manner of current theories that disclaim
the importance of literature; such theories say that standards
of taste and beauty and art are subjective and therefore worthless.
They say everyone has ideas about what is good and what is bad,
and who is anyone to claim that their ideas are superior to another's?
They also say that the standards that have for so long stood the
test of time were put in place by privileged white men, and therefore
do not take into account women, other classes or other races and
are somehow therefore worthless today. While I understand from
where such sentiments come, I believe they are, on the whole,
ridiculous. Can we really look at a sonnet by Shakespeare, a poem
by Wordsworth or Shelley or Keats or Yeats or any number of other
writers and say it is not worth reading? Do we elevate a work
because it was written by a particular kind of person instead
of because it is an outstanding work? Yes, many/most works of
literature from the past were written by white men, because that
is who had the education and time to write. Yet this historical
circumstance should not prevent us from knowing and enjoying their
works. There do exist standards of good and bad and they *can*
be shown. For example, rap lyrics (for the most part) aren't good.
While they are interesting as examples of the despair present
in some young people's lives, I do sincerely believe that a diet
pure in such things can only have ill effects on a person. "A
thing of beauty is a joy forever" Keats wrote, and likewise
a thing of ugliness is a bane forever. I sincerely believe that
if more people focused on good things, on the beauty of life that
surrounds us, their lives would be greatly improved. Of course
no life is without tragedy and strife, but it is also not without
times of joy; trying harder to focus on the joy can do wonders
for the soul.
I
do believe that by denying the sublimity of beauty, art, and creativity,
by denying their power, we are losing something, something vital
for our well-being. The poet Shelley, writing at a time of great
change and strife, believed that love would be the great unifying
force in the world...how he would despair to live today. For when
we begin to deny the ability of the soul to elevate and human
ability to create something sublime, we begin to deny the power
of love--and indeed, I have heard one of my collegues deny the
existence of love.
Right
now the world is suffering with America after the events of September
11, 2001. Most of us, including myself, want vengence/justice.
What a contradiction, isn't it? I truly believe in love and yet
I cannot turn the other cheek after the atrocities that have been
committed. I believe in love and good, and I also believe in evil
and bad. I am not conventionaly religious; I am not Christian.
Yet I do believe in evil. And despite anyone's explanation for
how or why someone acts in evil ways, that does not, cannot, excuse
evil deeds. I wish that all people could focus on the love and
joy in life, no matter how difficult life is (I sound quite Christian,
don't I?), but sadly that does not happen.
What
has struck me is how poignant certain poems are to me at this
time. I've always loved Romantic poetry in particular,
but have never been as moved by it as I am now. I feel as if I
have a closer connection with the emotions with which the poems
were composed, since most of the poetry I read was written during
times of war and chaos: Romantic poetry during the end & aftermath
of the French Revolution; modern poetry during the time surrounding
the first World War. Not only do such horrific times appear to
breed incredible art, but apparently also the ability to fully
appreciate it.
Ok,
enough philosophizing. I'll do the usual webpage "thing"
and explain my likes...I find my joy in cats, rain, coffee, cold
weather, London, Glastonbury (all of the UK), Killarney, Dublin
(all of Ireland), lakes, snow, mountains, novels, poetry, Pre-Raphaelite
art, movies, astronomy, classical music, Austen, Byron, Yeats,
Shelley, Keats, Robert Jordan, Harry Potter books...and in tiny
things like the ticking & chiming of clocks, toads, ducks,
sunning lizards, curious squirrels, and the silence of a natural
setting. Yes, I know I am a true Romantic (capital R here to designate
the literary/historical time period, not the fiction genre).
I
used to have a blog on this site, but decided to remove it because
the more I thought about it, the more I realized that blogs are
like autobiography--they are searching for an authentication of
the self. I do not, at the present time, feel the need to justify
my life (ok, not beyond what I wrote here, anyway...) nor do I
feel that my daily life is interesting for anyone besides myself.
Why force it on others?
d
All content
and design Copyright 1999, 2000, 2001 Sara
J unless otherwise stated
Background graphics by Legend
Designz This site can be viewed at any screen size, but high-color
presents the graphics as they should be viewed.
I
am currently an English literature graduate student and instructor
of writing at a university. During the course of my studies I
have learned about all manner of current theories that disclaim
the importance of literature; such theories say that standards
of taste and beauty and art are subjective and therefore worthless.
They say everyone has ideas about what is good and what is bad,
and who is anyone to claim that their ideas are superior to another's?
They also say that the standards that have for so long stood the
test of time were put in place by privileged white men, and therefore
do not take into account women, other classes or other races and
are somehow therefore worthless today. While I understand from
where such sentiments come, I believe they are, on the whole,
ridiculous. Can we really look at a sonnet by Shakespeare, a poem
by Wordsworth or Shelley or Keats or Yeats or any number of other
writers and say it is not worth reading? Do we elevate a work
because it was written by a particular kind of person instead
of because it is an outstanding work? Yes, many/most works of
literature from the past were written by white men, because that
is who had the education and time to write. Yet this historical
circumstance should not prevent us from knowing and enjoying their
works. There do exist standards of good and bad and they *can*
be shown. For example, rap lyrics (for the most part) aren't good.
While they are interesting as examples of the despair present
in some young people's lives, I do sincerely believe that a diet
pure in such things can only have ill effects on a person. "A
thing of beauty is a joy forever" Keats wrote, and likewise
a thing of ugliness is a bane forever. I sincerely believe that
if more people focused on good things, on the beauty of life that
surrounds us, their lives would be greatly improved. Of course
no life is without tragedy and strife, but it is also not without
times of joy; trying harder to focus on the joy can do wonders
for the soul.
I
do believe that by denying the sublimity of beauty, art, and creativity,
by denying their power, we are losing something, something vital
for our well-being. The poet Shelley, writing at a time of great
change and strife, believed that love would be the great unifying
force in the world...how he would despair to live today. For when
we begin to deny the ability of the soul to elevate and human
ability to create something sublime, we begin to deny the power
of love--and indeed, I have heard one of my collegues deny the
existence of love. 
What
has struck me is how poignant certain poems are to me at this
time. I've always loved Romantic poetry in particular,
but have never been as moved by it as I am now. I feel as if I
have a closer connection with the emotions with which the poems
were composed, since most of the poetry I read was written during
times of war and chaos: Romantic poetry during the end & aftermath
of the French Revolution; modern poetry during the time surrounding
the first World War. Not only do such horrific times appear to
breed incredible art, but apparently also the ability to fully
appreciate it. 
d 
