Objectivist Esthetics, R.I.P.

[Brant Gaede]

On 6/3/2017 at 7:26 PM, Theo said:

I have. I addressed Jonathan's posts (indirectly) by explaining clearly in my earlier post the difference between decorative design and visual fine art, and how they can not be lumped together in the same category.

Robert, Brant, neither of you have addressed removing subject matter from visual art - the crucial element that makes up a painting/sculpture to give it meaning. An artist can not depict light without the object it shines on, or render texture without an object to make it real, or apply colour and disconnect it from its visual form. To take an art form, remove everything that gives it clarity and meaning, then to evade this issue by claiming art is whatever you make it.

Let's broaden the subject to literature. I don't think Rand ever said a novel she didn't like was not a work of art, displaying, qua art, some circumspection.

--Brant

[Wolf DeVoon]

17 hours ago, Brant Gaede said:

some circumspection.

--Brant

Golly. What an interesting term. As a favor, talk a bit more about that, please.

[BaalChatzaf]

6 hours ago, Wolf DeVoon said:

Golly. What an interesting term. As a favor, talk a bit more about that, please.

Circumspection.  Isn't that what happens to Jewish boys when they are 8 days old?

[Brant Gaede]

I don't know what you guys are on about. At first I thought I must have coined a new word.

--Brant

[anthony]

On 6/5/2017 at 2:42 PM, Brant Gaede said:

Let's broaden the subject to literature. I don't think Rand ever said a novel she didn't like was not a work of art, displaying, qua art, some circumspection.

--Brant

A good question, which makes me wonder what form 'invalid' literature could take, roughly equated with abstract art. I can't imagine it. The two art disciplines are too dissimilar. A single word (a word-concept) has a fixed, objective definition that can't be avoided and changed, and a combination of them in a sentence must project an intelligible, objective meaning (if the author can write) or nothing. So you can get well-made, even great, fiction whose premises you strongly disagree with, and poorly done fiction which has an agreeable view of life, but we can't get arbitrary, non-objective use of language - which conveys nothing to anybody or different things to all people. (Abstract art...). Nonsense words strung together, sort of a word salad, maybe could come close to comparison. And that will be quickly rejected by readers, as meaningless (and not usually reach publication). 

(And I think it is not about disliking an artwork, per se - first, the concern is knowing what it IS, to like - or dislike).

Some Rand, for expansion on how art is conceived and received:

"The relation of literature to man's cognitive faculty is obvious: literature re-creates reality by means of words, i.e., concepts. But in order to re-create reality, it is the sensory-perceptual level of man's awareness that literature has to convey conceptually: the reality of concrete, individual men and events, of specific sights, sounds, textures, etc.

"The so-called visual arts (painting, sculpture, architecture) produce concrete, perceptually available entities and make them convey an abstract, conceptual meaning".

"All these arts are ~conceptual~ in essence, all are products of and addressed to the conceptual level of man's consciousness, and they differ only in their means. Literature starts with concepts and integrates them to percepts--painting [etc.] start with percepts and integrate them to concepts .[..] a process that integrates man's forms of cognition, unifies his consciousness and clarifies his grasp of reality."

[Art and Cognition]

Simply showing how distinct the processes are, the reader takes a writer's abstractions (word-concepts) and turns them into concrete percepts which he abstracts - the art viewer sees concretes in paintings and integrates them into his concepts. But they both come together, conceptually, in a mind.

(So whoever said that all art "is abstract", is not wrong. The "processes" of creation and reception are, certainly. That is, until it is - "abstract art").

[Wolf DeVoon]

On 6/6/2017 at 10:19 AM, anthony said:

makes me wonder what form 'invalid' literature could take, roughly equated with abstract art.

Hahaha. Joyce, Céline, Robbe-Grillet

Quote

The emergent forms of high modernity, perhaps even of postmodernity, depend upon tense and turbulent landscapes of accumulation whose dynamics are so volatile and whose space-economies are so disjointed that one can glimpse within the dazzling sequences of deterritorialization and reterritorialization a new and intensified fluidity... (Derek Gregory)

But what do I know? I detest Vonnegut, Irving, Adams, Heller, the whole NY line of tripe

[Theo]

On 2016-10-7 at 6:38 AM, Jonathan said:

So, if Linda Mann were to choose colorful, well-proportioned, man-made stone tiles as the "beautiful objects" that she wanted to paint in a still life, and if she were to selectively cut them and arrange them in a manner which pleased her, like this...

...and if she were to then create a painting of them like this...

...the painting would qualify as art according to your criteria, right?

If she were to explain that the theme of the painting is that the world is real, orderly and fascinating and that man is capable of understanding and enjoying it, and that she expressed this theme by choosing beautiful objects to paint, and by creating a composition that is purposeful and intriguing, and that she carefully rendered the objects and romantically enhanced their colors and textures, you'd agree that she succeeded, right?

An emphatic NO, Jonathan. You have deliberately made them NOT look like tiles, and even if you did, that would not be enough. The image would still be on the most basic perceptual level. Any painted object must be given a context by adding at least one other recognisable entity that it can be related to, showing its significance of being included. The early Dutch painters included floor tiles in their artworks but these were not their primary choice of subject.

To further illustrate my point here is a drawing by Glenn Keane Posted by Thorn. It demonstrates how relating entities and its attributes give meaning to an artwork. Also, I agree with Tony's description of it:

Tony wrote: The minimalist styles in the drawings do suggest emotion or activity to the viewers, I agree. I quite like the one of the girl and its suggestion of her vivacity and movement.

 

The drawing contains at least 2 related concretes to convey its subject matter allowing the viewer to recognise the artist's intention: pretty girl, her expression, flowing hair (movement/wind). The emotion it evokes, the movement it conveys, forms, contrast, the composition, all would amount to a ZERO without the recognisable subject matter.

Now, back to Linda Mann's paintings. Here is a link to one of her paintings I like (however, still-lifes are generally not my favoured subject). The painting is well stylised and her craftsmanship is superb. The sunlit objects, forms, shine, texture, vibrant colours all convey a bold realism and a tangible view of the world.
http://www.lindamann.com/sqal.htm

Below, I have created an "abstract painting" of her painting. My apologies Linda! I removed all the recognisable objects and kept only the attributes - colours, shapes, shade. Sure, you could learn all about colour theory and in regards to both images, you could say: The brightest and largest element is closest to the shadow making it more prominent. The eye is also drawn to the green element in contrast with the surrounding warm elements - but in Linda's painting these further enhance her chosen objects but in my "masterpiece" they only enhance the colour itself. There is no reference to objects which means the composition is lost (the viewing angle, the positional relation between entities). Form, light, texture are all lost - reality is completely lost and all you are left with is the unintelligible.

 

[BaalChatzaf]

4 hours ago, Theo said:

 

 

Even though this picture does not resemble anything I know I note there is a topological invariant.  In an 2 d tiling when three regions meet the point of junction is the central point of a a three ray structure  (look at the letter "Y") with the angles between pairs of line segments approximately 120 degree or 2/3 pi radians).   It is interesting to see topological invariants  asserting themselves in in a non-representational  abstract array.    I am one of those folks  who will try to find topological invariants  in a mess of semi-liquid shit splattered over the floor.  I -always- have a context, albeit a topological or mathematical context.

[Peter]

Is that called, "Looking outside from inside a cavern?"

[Theo]

5 hours ago, Peter said:

Is that called, "Looking outside from inside a cavern?"

Interestingly Peter, as a conceptual being, your first reaction was to try and find something concrete within the image to represent reality - try to give it some meaning.

[anthony]

13 hours ago, Theo said:

Interestingly Peter, as a conceptual being, your first reaction was to try and find something concrete within the image to represent reality - try to give it some meaning.

Exactly Theo, I was about to respond very similarly. Peter 'saw' what I 'saw'. His "...first reaction was to try and find something..." What's demonstrated is that our consciousness is *active*, always searching for 'patterns' of the familiar (or foreign?), even here, when no deliberate intent was there by you - or any agent - to depict 'a cavern'. That border-line area, comprising visual suggestion, associations or connotations has been well-utilized by Impressionist painters.

Fact, the consciousness is not a sort of 'passive recorder' - one's senses are constantly seeking out 'real things' to perceptualize. Reality exists in every place, except only in a few man made entities, e.g. abstract art, perusing which may temporarily confuse and impair one's confidence in one's faculties.

In effect: "I know it must *be* something - or *represent* something - but ...what?"

[anthony]

On 6/8/2017 at 3:13 AM, Wolf DeVoon said:

Hahaha. Joyce, Céline, Robbe-Grillet

But what do I know? I detest Vonnegut, Irving, Adams, Heller, the whole NY line of tripe

I thought of James Joyce as I was writing that, but decided against opening this ball of wax, and since I've avoided putting myself through the mind-numbing boredom of reading him, or Celine. I have an idea what you mean about Vonnegut et al. whom I have read.

You are indicating Post Modernism and its philosophers, who've effectively subverted the confidence/certainty in the knowing of reality and in the meaning of words. "Deconstructionism" in particular, in part with Nominalism is I gather, the driving force behind PM, by Foucault, Derrida, Rorty and others, reputedly taking cues from Kant, Heidegger and Soren Kierkegaard - and is a rabbit warren I don't advise any one with weak stomachs and clear minds to delve in to. I read that Derrida, if I recall right, was inspired by Joyce's literature.

You have been warned...

The Event of the Thing: Derrida's Post-Deconstructive Realism // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Damehttp://ndpr.nd.edu/news/the-event-of-the-thing-derrida-s-post-deconstructive-realism/

 

[Peter]

I lump novelists like Vonnegut in with the character Holly Golightly in “Breakfast At Tiffany’s”. Vonnegut wanted to be hip and Holly wants to sound hip as she spouts the most vile progressive crap from one or more of her college professors. At least Truman Capote who wrote Breakfast was making fun of her doctrinaire views, but I find Vonnegut just mindlessly appealing to his esthetic, liberal rulers.

Anything considered litter-ah-ture by progressive college professors is crap, going back at least to the fifties.

Peter with a BA in English   

[BaalChatzaf]

1 hour ago, Peter said:

I lump novelists like Vonnegut in with the character Holly Golightly in “Breakfast At Tiffany’s”. Vonnegut wanted to be hip and Holly wants to sound hip as she spouts the most vile progressive crap from one or more of her college professors. At least Truman Capote who wrote Breakfast was making fun of her doctrinaire views, but I find Vonnegut just mindlessly appealing to his esthetic, liberal rulers.

Anything considered litter-ah-ture by progressive college professors is crap, going back at least to the fifties.

Peter with a BA in English   

That is why most of my fiction reading is science fiction.  My roots in reading sciFi   go back to Sturgeon,  Bradberry, Asimov and Heinlein.   My favorite sciFi author  is  Ursula Laguinn who I consider world class as a writer in all fiction genres. One of her great, great novels  was "The Dispossessed"  which did for anarchism  what  "Atlas Shrugged"  did for capitalism.  The main differences is that Laguinn is a better writer than Rand.

PS: I read Atlas Shrugged as  alternative time line or alternative history  fiction.  

[Peter]

Interesting. I will check out, "The Dispossessed" by Ursula Laguinn. I was just looking over Barnes and Nobles SF selection and the hard scifi pickings were slim. I finally bought one about colonists on a planet once occupied . . . or are they still there? I already forget the name but it was from “recent scifi.”

If you think or know of any other good scifi out there let me know. I have read everything Sturgeon, Bradbury, Asimov and Heinlein wrote. They are great writers.

Peter

[BaalChatzaf]

30 minutes ago, Peter said:

Interesting. I will check out, "The Dispossessed" by Ursula Laguinn. I was just looking over Barnes and Nobles SF selection and the hard scifi pickings were slim. I finally bought one about colonists on a planet once occupied . . . or are they still there? I already forget the name but it was from “recent scifi.”

If you think or know of any other good scifi out there let me know. I have read everything Sturgeon, Bradbury, Asimov and Heinlein wrote. They are great writers.

Peter

Stanislaw Lem  writes good science fiction.   Please see  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanisław_Lem

[Wolf DeVoon]

10 hours ago, anthony said:

I thought of James Joyce as I was writing that, but decided against opening this ball of wax, and since I've avoided putting myself through the mind-numbing boredom of reading him, or Celine. I have an idea what you mean about Vonnegut et al. whom I have read.

You are indicating Post Modernism and its philosophers, who've effectively subverted the confidence/certainty in the knowing of reality and in the meaning of words. "Deconstructionism" in particular, in part with Nominalism is I gather, the driving force behind PM, by Foucault, Derrida, Rorty and others, reputedly taking cues from Kant, Heidegger and Soren Kierkegaard - and is a rabbit warren I don't advise any one with weak stomachs and clear minds to delve in to. I read that Derrida, if I recall right, was inspired by Joyce's literature.

What's really tragic about this is the brick wall of NY publishing, shutting out anything except shit -- just like NY galleries.

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

11 hours ago, anthony said:

I thought of James Joyce as I was writing that, but decided against opening this ball of wax, and since I've avoided putting myself through the mind-numbing boredom of reading him...

Tony,

You might like this (right here on OL):

Review of James Joyce's Ulysses Almost Made Me Choke to Death

That has a broken link I will soon fix, but here is the review in that thread:

Review of Ulysses by James Joyce by Doug Shaw, dated 5/25/2001.

And, by forcing fair use a bit, here is the review just in case it gets moved again in the future. (It really is that good.  )

Quote

Oh my god.  Oh my god.  Just where do I begin?

When the Modern Library first came out with their list, I was a visiting professor at the University of Minnesota.  I punched it up on line, and looked it over, along with my friend John Hall.  "I think I'm going to read all of these books."  John looked at me indulgently and said, "Don't start with Ulysses."

I spent about two happy years wandering my way through the list.   Sometimes I found amazing treasures that were a joy to read.  (Hi, William Styron!)  And sometimes I found tortuous ordeals that were a joy to whine about afterwards.  (I'm sorry, Sweet Bambi, please don't tell your Uncle Saul.)   Strangers started emailing me to share their views, and I had some wonderful discussions.  But many of them had one warning for me...  "Watch out for Ulysses; it isn't readable."  And there was another warning...  "You had better not trash Ulysses."

I'd also read many criticisms of the list itself... and agreed with most of them.  One of the common ones:  "Ulysses was rated the greatest novel of all time, and most of the people who voted it had never read it ."  I became increasingly curious...  what was it about this book that nobody seemed to finish, everyone seemed to hate, and was universally acknowledged to be the Greatest Novel of All Time?

I did eventually meet someone who had actually finished Ulysses.   Pat was an acquaintance from Minneapolis, with whom I had my first real conversation only after I'd moved to Iowa.  When I mentioned that I was about to start Ulysses, he spoke fondly of it.  He suggested that I first read Homer's Odyssey, and that I don't forget that Ulysses is supposed to be a comedy.  At this point in my life, Laurel and I were visiting Minneapolis once a month.  I fantasized about visiting Pat again next month, after I'd finished the book.

"Boy, Pat.  That Ulysses was surely a good book," I would say.

"Why, Douglas.  I agree with you of course.   You are so much cooler than all the people who are unable to even finish it."

"Well, Pat.  I wouldn't use the word 'cooler.'   But you and I are certainly smarter than they are.  The secret, in my opinion, is to remember that it is supposed to be a comedy."

"The poor bastards who forget," he would respond, thinking, "That Doug Shaw fellow has such good taste."

Since then, I've spoken to many people about Ulysses.  Many have told me that this is a Great Novel, and if I didn't say good things about it, then I was an ignoramus.  My response to this warning is always, "Have you read the novel?"  And the answer is always, "Well no... but..."  The people I've met who have actually read the thing have told me that it is quite a challenging book, and that I may not enjoy it, and that is perfectly understandable.   If you are going to email me, complaining about my review, I warn you that my first question will be "Have you read the novel?"  And if you haven't read it, start to finish, my response will be "Well I have.  I hated it.  And you may shut up until you have finished it."

I started Ulysses on a nice October day, on my walk to work.  I had to wade through a huge preface, talking about how this scholarly edition fixed all these punctuation marks, and had added an occasional sentence of traditionally deleted text.

Oh my god.  I'm finally writing this.  Oh my god.  It hurts to relive.  Wait a minute... I have to pull myself together.  The pain is starting again. 

 

 

 

Okay..  I can go on now.  I'm sorry. 

I stopped walking to work as a result of this book.  I stopped enjoying the act of reading.  I stopped enjoying the very fact of my existence, knowing that the same God who created me also created James Joyce and this pile of pages.  One day, at about page 75,  I looked to find the page number of the end, so I could pass the reading time by calculating what percentage of the book I had read so far.  So I wouldn't have to look it up again, I decided to write "644" on the inside front cover.  I turned to said inside front cover only to find "644" already written there, in my handwriting.

Laurel, our friends Jeff and Kristie, and some of their friends were out at a bar, and Jeff asked how the book was going.  Without pausing, I said, "It is like having a rib ripped out of my body, being beaten with it, raped with it, and then being forced to eat it."  The table went silent.  My reaction had been unexpected by all, including me.  I paused and said, "I'm sorry I said that, but I stand by the statement."

I would read the book while proctoring exams, although I couldn't last for the whole hour.  After two pages of Chapter two, I would have to put it aside for two or three days, until I had regained the capacity to feel joy.   Sometimes I would survive by thinking about this review, and how I was going to create this graphic:  And then there would be this guide:

Scale:
 I did not like it.
 I liked it.
 I thought it one of the Best Novels of All Time.
 Caused me to describe being anally raped by one of my own ribs at a mixed gathering.

Somewhere in Part II, when I was completely lost, I noticed that each individual page read like one of my ex-fiancee's poems.  "Self," thought I, "how can you dislike Ulysses, when you love Jennifer's poetry?"   I thought about this for a while, and continued reading.  "Self," answered I, "Jennifer's poems do not go on for 644 pages, and at least seem to be about something.  This book sucks."

Somewhere else, I was reminded of parts of Einstein on the Beach, an Opera by the composer Philip Glass.  "Self," thought I, "how can you dislike Ulysses, when you like Einstein on the Beach so much?"   I thought about this for a while, and continued reading.  "Self," answered I, "you like Einstein on the Beach because it is good, and you dislike Ulysses because it is painful and awful to read.  This book sucks."

Later still, I ran into Pat during a visit to Minneapolis.  

PATRICK

How's Ulysses going?

DOUGLAS

It's tough, and I'm not enjoying it all that much, but it's getting better.

(a "thought balloon" appears over Douglas's head, reading tough means incomprehensible not enjoying means hating getting better means that chapter 15 is not as hateful as chapters 1 through 14 but i want Pat to like me but why should i i i lie since i'm just going to wind up putting it in the review anyway and as smart and interesting as Pat is my i i beard is much better than his ever gets so really why should i lie pie in the sky poke in the eye )

PATRICK

So, where are you now?

DOUGLAS

(instantly)  Page 352 (Ghost of Bob Dorough notes 352/644 is approximately 54.65838509%)

PATRICK

No, I meant what is happening now?

DOUGLAS

Oh - The book has just shifted to "play" format.  Much easier to read.

PATRICK

No, I meant what is happening in regards to the plot?

(Douglas's's's face blushes red and hot.   The smoke alarms go off at the smoke coming from his ears.  Four score and seven firemenwomenchildren put out the fire, clean up the soot, wash the walls, vacuum the carpet, change the litter box, do the dishes, make the bed, plow the fields, split the infinitives)

PATRICK

(laughs)  I know that's kind of a hard question.  Have you gotten to the part yet where Bloom masturbates?

DOUGLAS

Uhhh....

OTHER DOUGLAS

(whispers)  Gertie!  Right before the play part he was going on about a girl named Gertie.  Mention Gertie.  If Bloom masturbated over Gertie then it seems like you know what was going on, and if not, it looks like you were answering the previous question.  Gertie, you portly bearded phony phakey Ph.D.ded phool!

DOUGLAS

Right after he saw Gertie

OTHER DOUGLAS

(whispers)  at the beach

DOUGLAS

                                             at the beach.

PATRICK

Ah yes, that certainly was a funny part, yes?

 

Oh god, I'm sorry for lapsing into that.  I promised myself I wouldn't do that.  The only thing worse than James Joyce writing like James Joyce is other people trying to write like James Joyce.  And I failed.   I was coherent.  I can't not be.

Dear lord, make the pain stop long enough for me to finish this review.

At some point, I was wandering the Web and came upon a review of Ulysses, where it was mentioned that the whole novel took place over one day.  Oh.  News to me.

I was at the Center for Research on Learning and Teaching in Ann Arbor, and was giving a sample educational seminar in a roomful of professional educational consultants.  At one point, I wanted to do a sample group activity with them, and had to prepare a question for discussion that would work with educators of different specializations and backgrounds.  I had them discuss whether a book such as Ulysses could be considered a "Great Novel" if everybody who reads it, hates it.   (That was the premise.  As I've stated above, I'm aware that there are people who liked it.)  The question began by talking about how much difficulty I was having with the novel, included a sample paragraph, and then mentioned again how much I disliked it.   The group discussed the question, and came to the conclusion that such a novel can still be considered "great."

As they were returning to their seats, I addressed the group, saying something like, "See?  We have four people of different research backgrounds, who took a question from still a different field, and they were able to discuss this question and come to a conclusion" and then in a softer voice "albeit the wrong one."  Ha ha, and then we discussed the group dynamics.

During the feedback session, that comment was addressed.  How I told students to have an open discussion, and then afterwards, I discounted everything they said.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen,  I had been standing in a room full of people who are experts on group-dynamics and education, and did the worst possible thing.  I'd thought it was funny at the time.  It wasn't one of my best moments.

Ulysses.  Ulysses.  If I had wanted to be made to feel like an idiot, I would have just gone back to graduate school.

I was in Yahoo Chat and met a fellow who had read it five times.   He said that he understood my hostility, that it didn't mean anything about me as a person, and I would probably enjoy the novel more my second time around.  My second time around.  Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho and ho.

The visions of  went away about halfway through chapter 15.   Horrors, I started to like it.  Well, that is too strong.  I started not to hate certain parts.  I realized that this novel should be read the way you watch an episode of Monty Python or the Monkees.  (Pat's ghost : "Remember that it is supposed to be a comedy.")  You know how in an episode of the Monkees, Davy would question Peter and Peter would say, "What is this, a trial?" and then suddenly they would be in a courtroom with Mike as the judge and Mickey as the D.A.?   You know how in an episode of Monty Python, Graham Chapman would question Terry Jones and Terry would say, "What is this, a trial?" and then suddenly they would be in a courtroom with Eric Idle as the judge and John Cleese as the D.A.? Well, Ulysses has that kind of logic to it.  At least sometimes.  And when I read it that way, it became tolerable, almost pleasant.  Until Chapter 16.

Did you like Chapter 17?

I did at first, but the conceit wore thin and became tedious again.   But at least I knew the end was in sight.

I'm sorry that this review is so long, rambling, and at times incoherent.  But it could be worse.  You could be reading Ulysses.

Okay, you want to know when I was really embarrassed?  The first time I bought a Playboy magazine.  I went to the grocery store, and left almost immediately, because I lost my nerve.  I drove to a different one, and tried again and failed.  Finally, I got a whole bunch of other things, slipped in the Playboy, and bought it.  "This is the most embarrassing thing in the world to buy," thought I.

Okay, you want to know when I was really, really embarrassed?  The first time I bought condoms.  I went to the pharmacy, and left almost immediately, because I lost my nerve.  I drove to a different one, and tried again and failed.  Finally, I got a whole bunch of other things, slipped in the condoms, and bought it.  "This is the most embarrassing thing in the world to buy," thought I. "Worse than the Playboy."

Okay, you want to know when I was really, really, really embarrassed?  The time (the only time, thank you) I bought a home pregnancy test.  This is hard for me to write.  Good thing you are the only person who will ever read it.  I went to the pharmacy, and was embarrassed, but old enough not to leave.  I got a whole bunch of other things, and then got IT, and bought it.   "This is the most embarrassing thing in the world to buy," thought I. "Worse than the Playboy and the condoms," thought I as I walked home, about five minutes before running into someone I knew who wanted to have a long conversation in the sidewalk, with me holding a bag and praying that he wouldn't ask me what was in it.

Okay, you want to know when I was really, really, really, really embarrassed?  The time (the only time, thank you) I bought Cliff's notes.  I walked to the University of Northern Iowa bookstore.  I almost turned around and left.  Blushing, I walked up and down every aisle, making sure no students or other professors were there.  An ex-student works as a cashier; I made sure she wasn't on duty.  I almost walked out, losing my nerve.  But I steeled myself, got a whole bunch of other things, and bought the Cliff's notes to Ulysses.   "This is the most embarrassing thing in the world to buy," thought this college professor.  And I was right.  Not until 70 years from now when I'm buying adult-diapers... no, this was worse. 

The Cliff's notes helped a bit.  I found out that the reason it seemed the perspective kept changing was because there were two main characters, and the perspective was flipping back and forth between them.  No, I hadn't figured that out yet.  Yes, I am stupid.  Laurel leafed through the notes and said, "This isn't the book you described; stuff happened."  I said, "This is like a coherent description of a long incoherent dream."  Actually I didn't say that.  I don't remember what I said.

I was on the Internet and found a web site that reviewed the Top 100 Novels of All Time.  And it wasn't me; it was some right-wing guy.  He'd read and reviewed all 100, beating me to the punch.  I turned to his Ulysses review.  He confessed that he'd only read the first sixth of the book but that was enough to get what it was like.  He was wrong.  You have to read the whole thing to appreciate the experience.  (And it still means that nobody has read and reviewed all 100 yet...  I'm still in the running!)

Okay.  Here's the quick version of my review:   Ulysses was clearly written by a clever guy.  I was not smart enough to understand it.  I had a horrible time reading it, and will never read it again.   Note that I did not say it wasn't "great."  Even a caveman can walk through a huge factory and see that some talent went into the making of it.  Let someone smarter than I am decide whether it is "great."  But please, please, make sure that person has actually read every single word.

I have a feeling I would like Mr. Shaw.

Michael

[Brant Gaede]

6 hours ago, BaalChatzaf said:

That is why most of my fiction reading is science fiction.  My roots in reading sciFi   go back to Sturgeon,  Bradberry, Asimov and Heinlein.   My favorite sciFi author  is  Ursula Laguinn who I consider world class as a writer in all fiction genres. One of her great, great novels  was "The Dispossessed"  which did for anarchism  what  "Atlas Shrugged"  did for capitalism.  The main differences is that Laguinn is a better writer than Rand.

PS: I read Atlas Shrugged as  alternative time line or alternative history  fiction.  

Do you mean the whole ball of wax or just the way she uses words and the words she uses?

You could say William F. Buckley jr was a much, much better writer than Rand. He was very literary and had a stupendous vocabulary. But I didn't care to read his fiction for all that.

Rand was a writer for the ages--at least so far. WFBjr is gone--gone with his typewriter.

I think you've misused "history" here as AS was futuristic.

--Brant

[BaalChatzaf]

29 minutes ago, Brant Gaede said:

Do you mean the whole ball of wax or just the way she uses words and the words she uses?

You could say William F. Buckley jr was a much, much better writer than Rand. He was very literary and had a stupendous vocabulary. But I didn't care to read his fiction for all that.

Rand was a writer for the ages--at least so far. WFBjr is gone--gone with his typewriter.

I think you've misused "history" here as AS was futuristic.

--Brant

Alternate history means an alternate time line  as in what if the South had won the Civil War.  The America of AS  was quite different from the America we live in. For example Ayn Rand postulated that the law making body of the U.S. was a single House  called the National Legislature.  Also the U.S never had a railroad that ran coast to coast.   Historically the eastern lines terminated in Chicago and the Western lines terminated in Chicago.  To go coast to coast one had to change trains at Chicago. 

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Tony,

I quoted your post below from the other thread.

1 hour ago, anthony said:

 

On 5/27/2009 at 6:06 PM, Michelle said:

James Joyce got progressively less coherent as time went on. Dubliners, if boring, is perfectly comprehensible. Portrait of the Artist gets a bit muddy, but, with minimal effort, the narrative can be followed. Now, Ulysses was just an random mess of words with no seeming rhyme or reason to them. They describe events, supposedly, but the reader has to go to quite a bit of trouble to figure out what is going on. If Ulysses seemed impossible to cap, well...have you ever flipped through Finnegans Wake?...Joyce went from writing a barely comprehensible mess of a book in Ulysses to writing a book that is literally impossible to comprehend. You can start reading from any point in the novel and it won't make any less sense.

To give you a sense of the magnitude of how bad Finnegans Wake gets, I'll post an excerpt, randomly selected. I'll open to a random page and post the first paragraph my eyes come across.

"Bisships, bevel to rock's rite! Sarver bouy, extinguish! Nuotabene. The rare view from the three Benns under the bald heaven is on the other end, askan your blixom on dimmen and blastun, something to right hume about."

This is only a few line out of a paragraph that goes on for a page and a half. I only needed to post a few lines. Because the ENTIRE BOOK is written just like this. Actually, that's a lie. This passage is actually not as bad as most of the others. But I'll leave that to your imagination. Because no matter how bad you imagine it to be, it still won't be as bad as what is actually in this book.

Michael - Lively discussion. Here is some of what Michelle had to say. I'll have to take it back, I'd not thought it possible that nonsense words could be strung together (as I was saying for comparison to abstract art; hell, I'd prefer the art) -- be published -- and be taken seriously by critics/intellectuals. Pretentious poseurs. That's one definition of "second-handers". ;)

(oops, wrong thread. Never mind, worth the revisit, anyhow)

Believe it or not, I am going to read Ulysses and do a course on it from The Great Courses.

I don't expect to like it after all that, but I do expect to see why it is valuable to so many people.

Here's what's in my head right now. I used to adopt Rand's model-making future-oriented view of art as the only valid one, and I do see it as A valid one, just no longer as THE valid one that makes all others invalid. However, I don't think her identification of what people get out of the art she blasted is correct. Maybe some people have that aesthetic experience, but I don't find it often in people I interact with, read, see and listen to.

Rand actually said in several places that art was a form of model-making. And, of course, it was not to present life as it is, but as life could and should be. If that is what you seek and you believe that is the ONLY things humans seek in art, her wholesale condemnations of certain artists is not only comprehensible, it's very seductive. For instance, with Joyce (Ulysses) or Tolstoy (Anna Karenina), etc., you can be on the right side of good without cracking their thick-ass boring books open or even reading a single page.  

But sometimes people seek something else in art. I believe with artists like Joyce or the poet T. S. Eliot, one of the mains pleasures people get is the same as solving a crossword puzzle. These authors are full of references to practically all of human culture and I believe people like to see what they can find, then what else they can find, on each reading. It's a crossword puzzle set up like an Easter Egg hunt.

I'm not saying that's good or bad, especially as I expect that pleasure gets old real fast--at least for me, but it is not worship of mind destruction and a death premise. On the contrary, the people who like these works are using their minds as rationally as they can muster, but in seek mode, not find mode.

I get a lot of value out of having internalized Rand's views before I attack a project like this, though. One of the easiest ways human beings record new ideas in memory (and make them stick) is to think about them in black and white, good and evil, arguments. Rand was really good at that and she definitely set some standards that need to be on the table in my mind, even as I now perceive there is more to consider than just those standards in these deep cultural waters she blasted and I venture into. Without those standards, I might sink or give up, but with them, I now find the gray between her poles (but the black and white are still there), and sometimes the entire rainbow.

For others, this might be different, but for me, that's how it's working.

Michael

[BaalChatzaf]

7 minutes ago, Michael Stuart Kelly said:

 

But sometimes people seek something else in art. I believe with artists like Joyce or the poet T. S. Eliot, one of the mains pleasures people get is the same as solving a crossword puzzle. These authors are full of references to practically all of human culture and I believe people like to see what they can find, then what else they can find, on each reading. It's a crossword puzzle set up like an Easter Egg hunt.

I'm not saying that's good or bad, especially as I expect that pleasure gets old real fast--at least for me, but it is not worship of mind destruction and a death premise. On the contrary, the people who like these works are using their minds as rationally as they can muster, but in seek mode, not find mode.

I praise you for your patiences, kindness and charity.  (BTW  I made part of your quote bold).  I think that is a nifty observation. 

I will have to forgo the pleasures of the Egg Hunt.  I have enough trouble parsing uncomplicated normal discourse. I have enough trouble getting the meanings in front of the words.  I do not have  what it requires to get at the meanings (if any)  -behind the words-.

[9thdoctor]

20 minutes ago, Michael Stuart Kelly said:

Tony,

I quoted your post below from the other thread.

Believe it or not, I am going to read Ulysses and do a course on it from The Great Courses.

I don't expect to like it after all that, but I do expect to see why it is valuable to so many people.

 

It's one of the all time greats.  Seek out Joseph Campbell's talks on it.  

The recent contributions to this thread called this scene to mind.

 

[anthony]

Michael,

For me, it is both - seek AND find mode. I expect, from a good author, the pleasure of reading a fine and original style, but primarily by his having ~something~ to tell. There are plenty I've read who make you, the reader, do all the mind-work, imagining and conceptualizing, without needing to conceal under obscure references, mythology, etc.  - nor falling into self-love with his own orotund verbiage . I repeat often that the world has shifted into 'style over substance' mode in every facet of life today - and for that the subjectivism of the post-modernist movement, and its art, can take much responsibility, I think.

And I can and have read anything available, except the boring or self-pretentious. It is not as though I relied on Rand's approach to fiction as 'the only way'. I was an extensive novel reader long before knowing hers. Anyway, it's implicit in Rand on art, that there are and always will be, a million ways to skin the cat when it comes to art and literature. By no means can a philosopher cover everything in such a vast field, although conceptually - as she did - he can cover much of the most significant. She is accused of limiting the artist's creativity only by those who've misinterpreted her. Of course, pure creative subjectivity would be anathema for her. Still, above all, as an artist be true to your style and your - well, "message", I get from her.

Without conflict of some sort, few novels get off the ground. And what does many a reader desire but to see a protagonist resolve the conflict by making the tough choices and actions to eventually come out okay: I.e. "a being of volitional consciousness", or Romanticism. Inherently, I believe nearly every consumer of fiction has a streak of romantic realism (and individualism). And a story can be written with sharp clarity and originality, unlike what I've glimpsed of Joyce's "stream of (sub)consciousness" which may be even be faking originality. All the best with Ulysses. ;0

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

2 hours ago, anthony said:

She is accused of limiting the artist's creativity only by those who've misinterpreted her.

Tony,

I used to do this kind of us against them reasoning re Rand all the time. I don't anymore.

Granted, this is true for a lot of the schlock out there, but I have come across critiques of Rand's aesthetic theories by people who don't misrepresent her at all. I even have my own critiques and I don't misrepresent her. 

Just because someone disagrees with Rand, that doesn't mean they misunderstand her ideas.

They could simply be evil.

Like me.

 

(So there.  )

Michael