Archive for April, 2004

Perennial Fools

April 1st, 2004

No April Fool joke over at the ever-serious Virtual Stoa, I’m afraid. (I did enjoy reading about Peter Mandelson becoming chairman of the BBC in the Guardian, especially for his suggestion that the Today programme could be broadcast in a much earlier slot, so that people could get some exercise at the time it’s currently on.)

But instead here’s a link to a post on the excellent new groupblog The Panda’s Thumb. The blog has been set up as part of the propaganda effort against Creationists, advocates of Intelligent Design, and others who want to replace science education with nonsense; the particular post documents some of the extraordinary credulity — some of it 1 April-related — of these perennial (and pernicious) fools. Good work, chaps.

Nigerian Fanmail

April 1st, 2004

Adèle Geras — whose recent event at the Oxford Literary Festival was, I am told by people here, an exceptionally good one — gets a different kind of Nigerian mailbag from the rest of us…(Or perhaps the bit about sending along bank account card details in the strictest confidence, etc., was left out of the blogposting?)

Wilde Serial, #14

April 1st, 2004

Earlier episodes: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII.

“The Soul of Man Under Socialism” by Oscar Wilde, Part Fourteen

On the whole, an artist in England gains something by being attacked. His individuality is intensified. He becomes more completely himself. Of course, the attacks are very gross, very impertinent, and very contemptible. But then no artist expects grace from the vulgar mind, or style from the suburban intellect. Vulgarity and stupidity are two very vivid facts in modern life. One regrets them, naturally. But there they are. They are subjects for study, like everything else. And it is only fair to state, with regard to modern journalists, that they always apologize to one in private for what they have written against one in public.

Within the last few years two other adjectives, it may be mentioned, have been added to the very limited vocabulary of art-abuse that is at the disposal of the public. One is the word “unhealthy”, the other is the word “exotic”. The latter merely expresses the rage of the momentary mushroom against the immortal, entrancing, and exquisitely lovely orchid. It is a tribute, but a tribute of no importance. The word “unhealthy”, however, admits of analysis. It is a rather interesting word. In fact, it is so interesting that the people who use it do not know what it means.

What does it mean? What is a healthy or an unhealthy work of art? All terms that one applies to a work of art, provided that one applies them rationally, have reference to either its style or its subject, or to both together. From the point of view of style, a healthy work of art is one whose style recognises the beauty of the material it employs, be that material one of words or of bronze, of colour or of ivory, and uses that beauty as a factor in producing the aesthetic effect. From the point of view of subject, a healthy work of art is one the choice of whose subject is conditioned by the temperament of the artist, and comes directly out of it. In fine, a healthy work of art is one that has both perfection and personality. Of course, form and substance cannot be separated in a work of art; they are always one. But for purposes of analysis, and setting the wholeness of aesthetic impression aside for a moment, we can intellectually so separate them. An unhealthy work of art, on the other hand, is a work whose style is obvious, old-fashioned, and common, and whose subject is deliberately chosen, not because the artist has any pleasure in it, but because he thinks that the public will pay him for it. In fact, the popular novel that the public calls healthy is always a thoroughly unhealthy production; and what the public call an unhealthy novel is always a beautiful and healthy work of art.

I need hardly say that I am not, for a single moment, complaining that the public and the public Press misuse these words. I do not see how, with their lack of comprehension of what Art is, they could possibly use them in the proper sense. I am merely pointing out the misuse; and as for the origin of the misuse and the meaning that lies behind it all, the explanation is very simple. It comes from the barbarous conception of authority. It comes from the natural inability of a community corrupted by authority to understand or appreciate Individualism. In a word, it comes from that monstrous and ignorant thing that is called Public Opinion, which, bad and well-meaning as it is when it tries to control action, is infamous and of evil meaning when it tries to control Thought or Art.

Indeed, there is much more to be said in favour of the physical force of the public than there is in favour of the public’s opinion. The former may be fine. The latter must be foolish. It is often said that force is no argument. That, however, entirely depends on what one wants to prove. Many of the most important problems of the last few centuries, such as the continuance of personal government in England, or of feudalism in France, have been solved entirely by means of physical force. The very violence of a revolution may make the public grand and splendid for a moment. It was a fatal day when the public discovered that the pen is mightier than the paving-stone, and can be made as offensive as the brickbat. They at once sought for the journalist, found him, developed him, and made him their industrious and well-paid servant. It is greatly to be regretted, for both their sakes. Behind the barricade there may be much that is noble and heroic. But what is there behind the leading article but prejudice, stupidity, cant, and twaddle? And when these four are joined together they make a terrible force, and constitute the new authority.

[More soon.]

Welcome Visitor

April 1st, 2004

A while ago I used this weblog to publicise the excellent Latin translation of “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” by Judith P. Hallett. She visited the VS recently and wrote this in the comments box, which I’ll reproduce below on the grounds that I don’t think any of my readers are quite sad enough to spend their time trawling entries from months ago on the offchance that new comments have appeared. (I hope not, at any rate.)

See Classical Association News, June 2003, for a Latin version of “Take Me Out…” in honor of the CA Centenary.

Aufer nos ad Britannos, alumnos Boudiccae
Da nobis quae (id est quid, plura)
Publicae domus ardens est cura.
Societate gaudeamus
Eorum classica.
Centum annos floruit cum speque gloria.

As a member of the Classical Association (oddly enough), I’m flattered. And she also refers us to more of her translated songs on the Munich Petronian Society webpage, including “Jailhouse Rock” and, I’m delighted to report, the main theme from Oklahoma! reworked as “Nostra Roma!” (”Nostra Roma, urbs aeterna septem collium”, etc).

(We can only hope that a Latin version of “The Farmer and the Cowman” will appear before too long.)