Unlike science, with its hard facts, measurables and logic, art and creative pursuits are subjective. Not that it means an interpretation of a piece of art can't be wrong: it's not an "anything goes" policy, no, no. It is, however, a lot more flexible and filled with minute shades of grey. As one of my university professors explained it:
Interpreting and critiquing the value of a work of art (whether that be a painting or a poem) is like shining a flashlight on a wall. The concentrated beam in the middle represents the realm of possible interpretations, none more or less correct than any other. The closer to the middle you are, the more correct you are. Then as you reach the periphery, it gets fuzzier, until you end up, sometimes inperceptibly, in the dark.
I like that.
In school, I learned many theories and ways to interpret works of art: aesthetic, psychological, personal, historical, etc. One often-contested means of interpretation was to judge a work in relationship to its author/creator.
This makes sense, since a person will inevitably put their influence into a work and will choose subject matter based on their personality, hopes, fears, dreams and dark desires. What comes up for debate, however, is whether you can judge the quality of the work based on the quality of its creator. Does the work stand alone, or does our judgement of it have its basis in our understanding of the artist?
Personally, I'm of the school that says that, regardless of how autobiographical or self-involved a work, a piece of writing or music or art can be judged on its own merit, separate from the creator. Which is important, I believe, when you consider how many artists are also fuck ups and assholes. The creative process is often linked to mental instability and self-involvement. It's what allows the artist to contemplate his soul, dig out a piece and put it on display. It also means, however, that many are addicts, crazies or just, well...bad people.
The artist is not irrelevant to the finished product. However, viewing the end result separately means basing judgement on the merits of the story it tells and how it is told. I mean, Picasso was a misogynist, Charlie Parker a heroin addict and Lewis Carroll loved his 10-year-old neighbour. So you would probably not want to have these guys over for tea and scones. But does that make their art worth less than if they were more staid and virtuous?
These thoughts swirled through my head as I read this article, which details a new book on William Golding, the author of Lord of the Flies. Through research, the biographer discovered that Golding was a rapist. This discovery has shocked readers everywhere and has provoked a call for the book to be removed from junior high school reading lists. Slate's sister website, XX, includes feminist reactions here.
While I find this revelation apalling, I can't say that it changes my mind about Lord of the Flies. Whatever its flaws, I find it to be a tremendous, powerful book that explores the denegration of society through the parable of a group of feral schoolboys. But many others may not be able to look past it. And that's fine for them, I suppose. Though missing out on literature, in my opinion, is sad and, I think, more detrimental to the state of our culture than the fact that this dead author was a bad man.
Thoughts?
Interpreting and critiquing the value of a work of art (whether that be a painting or a poem) is like shining a flashlight on a wall. The concentrated beam in the middle represents the realm of possible interpretations, none more or less correct than any other. The closer to the middle you are, the more correct you are. Then as you reach the periphery, it gets fuzzier, until you end up, sometimes inperceptibly, in the dark.
I like that.
In school, I learned many theories and ways to interpret works of art: aesthetic, psychological, personal, historical, etc. One often-contested means of interpretation was to judge a work in relationship to its author/creator.
This makes sense, since a person will inevitably put their influence into a work and will choose subject matter based on their personality, hopes, fears, dreams and dark desires. What comes up for debate, however, is whether you can judge the quality of the work based on the quality of its creator. Does the work stand alone, or does our judgement of it have its basis in our understanding of the artist?
Personally, I'm of the school that says that, regardless of how autobiographical or self-involved a work, a piece of writing or music or art can be judged on its own merit, separate from the creator. Which is important, I believe, when you consider how many artists are also fuck ups and assholes. The creative process is often linked to mental instability and self-involvement. It's what allows the artist to contemplate his soul, dig out a piece and put it on display. It also means, however, that many are addicts, crazies or just, well...bad people.
The artist is not irrelevant to the finished product. However, viewing the end result separately means basing judgement on the merits of the story it tells and how it is told. I mean, Picasso was a misogynist, Charlie Parker a heroin addict and Lewis Carroll loved his 10-year-old neighbour. So you would probably not want to have these guys over for tea and scones. But does that make their art worth less than if they were more staid and virtuous?
These thoughts swirled through my head as I read this article, which details a new book on William Golding, the author of Lord of the Flies. Through research, the biographer discovered that Golding was a rapist. This discovery has shocked readers everywhere and has provoked a call for the book to be removed from junior high school reading lists. Slate's sister website, XX, includes feminist reactions here.
While I find this revelation apalling, I can't say that it changes my mind about Lord of the Flies. Whatever its flaws, I find it to be a tremendous, powerful book that explores the denegration of society through the parable of a group of feral schoolboys. But many others may not be able to look past it. And that's fine for them, I suppose. Though missing out on literature, in my opinion, is sad and, I think, more detrimental to the state of our culture than the fact that this dead author was a bad man.
Thoughts?
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