1.) Scruton does not need to work so hard trying to scrape out a new form of transcendence in human experience. While the rational mind of this era does "desecrate" by nature - putting reason to the sacred in order to understand its human utility and social construction - and can be "transported" and "captured" by a moment of empty clarity, we people of the modern have always kept alive the sacred in a most fundamental way: ourselves. Consciousness, that undoubtable moment of experienced self-awareness, can not desacralize itself. The "phenomenon of consciousness" (as termed by William James) keeps itself whole; we can not stand apart from our own being to problematize our self in any way other than the abstract. Action in the world is self-actualizing, and no amount of reflection can alter the immanence with which we live.
2.) Scruton sets aside certain human endeavors (holiday meals; getting lost into a suddenly appearing shaft of sunlight) as evidence that we still live invested in beauty. In doing so, he emphasizes what Ellen Dissanayake calls "making special." This means, to be entirely too reductive, to invest value into acts of social construction, to acknowledge what William James (again) called the more to our lives. The very power than enjoins human reason to understand the world elides what it can not fit into meaningfulness. "For what we do not have language, we pass over in silence" (Wittgenstein). Elision becomes ignorance; the more becomes not the mystical dimension, where art and religion serve with soteriological agency, but a null part of human existence. Put another way, the observable and rational subvert the hapticity of experience. What we can not explain, we dismiss and move on.
His essay adds elegant prose to the dialogue between art and utility. The fact that something is created by humans for humans in order to live more autonomously in the world of humans does not deprive it of a kind of godliness. The final cause can not be known. The challenge for us the people is how to deal with that.
ADDED: I had the chance to attend a dinner in honor of Nell Painter, the Princeton professor of History. There were few people around the table, maybe ten, at the point that Dr. Painter claimed that "beauty did not have a narrative." Cam White and I had no idea what she meant, and neither of us were bold enough to approach her about this claim (it came across with a tone of perceived obviousness). I am still unable to understand her point, though I occasionally find ways to justify it.
Its relevance here, then, reminds me of the complex dimensions at play in what Scruton writes. Is beauty a thing itself, an end without recourse as a means? Should we pursue beauty, like the good and the true, for no utility other than to experience the beautiful? If so, then beauty as a social construction opens us to bad, bad faith: creating out of the flesh of human experience the portal of transcendence from humanity negates the transcendence. We fall back into ourselves.
Schools fail this test continually. Art, or any non-"objective" content subject course like music and PE, gain traction in schools in proportion to the utility for the mainline content course. Or their ability to raise measurements (re: testing) of these contents or the efficacy of schooling. There is, of course, a political and practical advantage to taking this purposefulness as a given. What it means, though, is the subjugation of beauty, and truth and the good, to their value in social life. Education deprives students of their experience of the goals of meaningfulness, in order to prepare them for a life that seeks these goals. Pursuit of the Good is not an end of schooling. Education sucks away the humanity of experience - even just the recognition that such a thing as the Good exists and the significance of a life of seeking.
Education becomes the process of regression, the infinite deferral of the goals of living in favor of more tools in which to seek them.
No comments:
Post a Comment