So yesterday I went to an interesting seminar for my music history class called "Music and Madness". It was about the relation of psychopathy to music arts over the years, and the different panelists addressed the issue in a bunch of different ways. There was a psychologist who talked about the relative rates of psychopathy in composers and the affects of psychopathy on the overall production and quality of a composer's work. There was a musicologist who talked about different methods for portraying insanity in music - tonality, rhythm, etc.
But the one that really interested me was the last one - the professor talked about the contrast between "the beautiful" and "the sublime". The beautiful includes any thing that is aesthetically pleasing, whereas the sublime is that which is not necessarily initially pleasurable, but nonetheless compels us and draws us in. One of the philosophers he quoted described a mountain scape this way - "as music is to the ear, but mingled with horrors, sometimes almost with despair." And his argument was that there has become a preference for the sublime in art in the past century or so because, for whatever reason, we seem to value those things which are difficult at first and require a higher level of cognition to appreciate.
So that being said, when I started reading about beauty this morning, this talk was the first thing I thought of. Especially lines like this: "If the Earth is full of God's glory, why is it also so full of pain and anguish and screaming and despair?" We see the beauty in the sunset, but somehow we are also draw to the sublime of a bleak landscape or a graffiti-covered ally. Maybe one of the reasons that we are drawn to the sublime - to that which is difficult and at times initially repulsive - is because we see the truth of it. We see the truth of the brokenness, but we are also drawn to it because we see the hope for restoration and the shadows of creation's original perfection.
Again, N.T. Wright says this: "beauty is both something that calls us out of ourselves and something which appeals to feelings deep within us." So maybe the things that 19th century philosophy would call "sublime" are things that appeal especially to the feelings of brokenness within us, and we are strangely drawn to them because they remind us of the beauty in the fall and the hope of restoration.
Sorry for being so wordy and school-like on that one! I hope it at least made a little sense.
What do you guys think? Is the philosophy of the beautiful/sublime contrast compatible with N.T. Wright's ideas? Completely different? A little of both?
"If the Earth is full of God's glory, why is it also so full of pain and anguish and screaming and despair?" - I believe that the heart of scripture is exacty what you wrote with one little tweak -- "Sublime" are things that appeal especially to the feelings of brokenness with in and we are strangely drawn to them because they remind us of the beauty of MERCY which redeems the fall and authentically enfuses hope of restoratin."
ReplyDeleteFrom the beginning God doesn't protect us from the grotesque. When we observe Christ in the gospels especially in light of the prophets we see again and again, the depth of the grotesque, pain, & oppression serves to reveal the intensity and intimacy that comes with internalizing the mercy of God. Mathew drives this home in Mathew 1 when he ties Mary to Bathsheeba, Rahab, Ruth, and Tamar. Their horriffic, desperate, sin-infested nightmare gives birth to what?? TO CHRIST! YEAH.
The well at Sychar (which means "drunk") is a good example of this as well. She gets drunk on Jesus in the midst of some pretty sublime images of abuse, shame, and despair.
God never seems to tone down the pain and sickness of life. I think we already discussed this idea in the blog through comments on Romans where Paul says God actually subjected creation to futility and decay on purpose.
God doesn't town down the pain. Instead, he simply distributes the grace, love, and furious passion of Christ and His kingdom.
Didn't Jesus something like, "the one who's been forgiven much, love's much?"
The light shines in the darkness.
You probably already had contemplated all this in your post. Thanks for inviting me to think through the same question.
Thanks for that food for thought, Steve. I was definitely thinking along those lines, but you added some pieces to the puzzle that I hadn't thought about before. Your insight is always a blessing!
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