A certain theme developed from reading the latest blogs.
I agree with Aristotle that being constantly weighed down by certain feelings may cause impediments in the quality of execution and experience of one’s daily life. I do not think that it necessarily follows that being cleansed of pity or fear leads one to become a more courageous being – though this could be a semantical issue. There are at least sometimes when even emotions putatively considered as negative, are nevertheless the appropriate response to the particular experience.
I believe we can we equally benefit from exposure to certain fictions and non-fiction, especially those exposures undertaken mindfully.
I think exposure to fictional situations offers opportunities for us to step outside of, or suspend temporarily, the thoughts and feelings that we have not yet sufficiently organized, absorbed, and holistically integrated into our evolutionary progression as a human being. The pause fiction provides can be utilized by us in various manners. We may choose to immerse ourselves in fiction to create a respite from an intense, unresolved reality; a tool used intentionally to suspend reality - as others may do through the sufficient consumption of alcohol or other mind-altering substances.
Participating in fictional experiences may allow us to shed at least some of the intensity of our (unproductive) emotions, at least temporarily. Additionally, fiction can potentially provide us with opportunities to mentally review the causational relationship between our thoughts and our emotions; and possibly extract some understanding through this process that alters the degree, or nature, of the emotion that was hampering us (from executing our life to its fullest potential).
I believe what Jamie is referring to in his blog is the unhealthy over-consumption of specific genres of non-fiction by some members of certain cultures. It appears that some Americans are obsessively substituting engagement in fictional realms in lieu of appropriately participating in, and relationally engaging with, their natural, physical world.
Fiction and non-fiction appropriately managed, may offer us situations and experiences that would otherwise be impossible for us to encounter, thereby increasing our opportunities for understanding, health, and evolution.
My Questions:
1. Do you think that some, many, or most, of the individuals who utilize Role-Playing Games do so in a healthy or obsessive manner?
2. Do you think individuals use RPGs and LARPs for the same reason others use fiction?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Horror and Fiction
Even before reading Berys Gaut’s The Paradox of Horror, I disagreed with Carroll’s claim that the appeal of horrific art can be reduced to the positive feelings associated with "fascination" or "curiosity”.
Carroll claims that horror fiction is a special variation on general narrative motivation because its central features, i.e., the character, nature, origin, and weaknesses of monsters are unknowable, and as such, exist outside of our conceptual schema (p. 303). However, these exact conditions exist in fantasy and science fiction, nullifying his claim that horror fiction is a special variation on the general narrative motivation. His attempts to rationalize his theory by claiming the difference between being curious about the unknown but natural, versus curiosity of the unknown and impossible (p. 307) in which horror fictions typically traffic are also typical of science fiction and fantasy. His theory also fails to address the genre of art-horror that depicts humankind or other natural beings (sharks, dogs, octopuses, gorillas) behaving in abnormal ways.
Carroll goes on to suggest that the processes of revelation and disclosure of monsters and their properties as unknown and unknowable, is what “captures our interest and delivers pleasure”; while their inherent monstrosity simultaneously disgusts and horrifies us, thereby creating a “paradox of horror.” Carroll asserts that the disgust and horror we feel is “part of the price to be paid for the pleasure of their disclosure.” He further claims that this resolves “the paradox of horror” (304-305). He further states that “experiencing the emotion of art-horror is not our absolutely primary aim in consuming horror fictions…rather (it) is the price we are willing to pay for the revelation…of that which violates our conceptual schema…because disgust is required for the pleasure involved in engaging our curiosity in the unknown…in the processes of revelation, ratiocination, etc” (306). His above claims are false. I, and many others, routinely experience the pleasure of engaging curiously in the unknown, using processes of logical proofs, hypotheses, arguments, explanations, and revelations without experiencing disgust (philosophy courses for example). In fact, I have never had a single college course where my curiosity was not piqued on more than one occasion from exposure to the unknown (and prior to the revelation of its potential existence) was unknowable to me. Could we not accurately say that all things, to which we have not yet been exposed to, contextually or conceptually, are unknowable to us? And is it not possible, that when first exposed to the novel we can be both fascinated and curious, and experience most novelties without disgust? Everything for which we have not yet developed a referential lexicon is unknowable to us; however, disgust is neither necessary nor required to facilitate processes of curiosity, revelation, or knowing.
I agree with Gaut, there is no paradox of horror (p. 328) and “that the concepts of all emotions implicitly incorporate references to desires which are typically possessed by those experiencing the emotion” (p. 329). We evaluate emotions as possessing negative or positive qualities on a scale according to our mental rationalizations, and that all emotions are a secondary response to a thought. Our thoughts create our emotions. Or as Gaut states, “the full solution to the paradoxes depends both on a view of the emotions as evaluative, and on the recognition of how mental holism presents itself in respect of emotions, desires, and enjoyment.
My Questions:
1. Do you agree that there is a conceptual connection between evaluation and pleasure?
2. If something is pleasurable, natural (biological or physiological origins),and a
societal norm, yet it is either unattainable or absent from your life, is its absence
necessarily painful?
Carroll claims that horror fiction is a special variation on general narrative motivation because its central features, i.e., the character, nature, origin, and weaknesses of monsters are unknowable, and as such, exist outside of our conceptual schema (p. 303). However, these exact conditions exist in fantasy and science fiction, nullifying his claim that horror fiction is a special variation on the general narrative motivation. His attempts to rationalize his theory by claiming the difference between being curious about the unknown but natural, versus curiosity of the unknown and impossible (p. 307) in which horror fictions typically traffic are also typical of science fiction and fantasy. His theory also fails to address the genre of art-horror that depicts humankind or other natural beings (sharks, dogs, octopuses, gorillas) behaving in abnormal ways.
Carroll goes on to suggest that the processes of revelation and disclosure of monsters and their properties as unknown and unknowable, is what “captures our interest and delivers pleasure”; while their inherent monstrosity simultaneously disgusts and horrifies us, thereby creating a “paradox of horror.” Carroll asserts that the disgust and horror we feel is “part of the price to be paid for the pleasure of their disclosure.” He further claims that this resolves “the paradox of horror” (304-305). He further states that “experiencing the emotion of art-horror is not our absolutely primary aim in consuming horror fictions…rather (it) is the price we are willing to pay for the revelation…of that which violates our conceptual schema…because disgust is required for the pleasure involved in engaging our curiosity in the unknown…in the processes of revelation, ratiocination, etc” (306). His above claims are false. I, and many others, routinely experience the pleasure of engaging curiously in the unknown, using processes of logical proofs, hypotheses, arguments, explanations, and revelations without experiencing disgust (philosophy courses for example). In fact, I have never had a single college course where my curiosity was not piqued on more than one occasion from exposure to the unknown (and prior to the revelation of its potential existence) was unknowable to me. Could we not accurately say that all things, to which we have not yet been exposed to, contextually or conceptually, are unknowable to us? And is it not possible, that when first exposed to the novel we can be both fascinated and curious, and experience most novelties without disgust? Everything for which we have not yet developed a referential lexicon is unknowable to us; however, disgust is neither necessary nor required to facilitate processes of curiosity, revelation, or knowing.
I agree with Gaut, there is no paradox of horror (p. 328) and “that the concepts of all emotions implicitly incorporate references to desires which are typically possessed by those experiencing the emotion” (p. 329). We evaluate emotions as possessing negative or positive qualities on a scale according to our mental rationalizations, and that all emotions are a secondary response to a thought. Our thoughts create our emotions. Or as Gaut states, “the full solution to the paradoxes depends both on a view of the emotions as evaluative, and on the recognition of how mental holism presents itself in respect of emotions, desires, and enjoyment.
My Questions:
1. Do you agree that there is a conceptual connection between evaluation and pleasure?
2. If something is pleasurable, natural (biological or physiological origins),and a
societal norm, yet it is either unattainable or absent from your life, is its absence
necessarily painful?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Moved by Fiction
I believe the best explanation for our capacity to be moved by fiction is a Darwinian one. Walton provided a brief reference to this in Footnote 15 (p. 271). It has been well documented that young (and often mature) mammals play using objects or living creatures within their environment in representational acts. They manipulate themselves and others within their environment in ways that appear to simulate future potential experiences. The response to the imagined prey or predator is characteristically similar in nature to what their normal response would be if the situation were real. Engaging in fiction allows mobile and/or social beings the opportunity to practice and hone critical life skills in a safe environment, where errors of timing, nature of response, perception, and choice, are not fatal. The capacity to empathize with others is necessary for the formation and maintenance of healthy relationships between intelligent, sentient, social beings. From an evolutionary perspective, social skills are survival skills. Empathizing with fictional characters is a normal emotional and physiological response for intelligent, sentient, social beings.
Physiologically, we absorb virtual images from visual mediums. We construct virtual images from descriptive verbal and written communications. The more elaborate our constructions, or the sensory intensity and completeness of virtual mediums, the more intensely we experience and respond to them as if they were real in the physical sense. In this way, like other young mammals, we are playing within a range of “possible” albeit improbable encounters of objects or others within our environment. This fictional play can be preparatory in nature, an exercise in imagination, a safe opportunity to express emotion, or simply the enjoyment intelligent creatures find in playful activities.
The neurochemical pathways in the brain are the same for an image experienced in reality or one seen, or inferred from, within a virtual 3-D world. The virtual world is alive and real in some of the pathways of our minds. Our emotional and psychological responses parallel those that we would experience if the virtual images and inferences were a physical component of our existence. Our mind blurs the boundaries between the physical images perceived and the virtual images constructed in response to that which we are/have experienced. The greater the degree of submersion in the virtual imagery and our inferences, the more intensely our mind and body will respond to the experience as if it were physical.
My Questions:
1. Does your body suffer from exposure to traumatic fiction?
2. Does your body suffer from exposure to traumatic non-fiction?
3. What is gained from exposure to virtual fictional wanton violence?
4. What is lost from exposure to virtual fictional wanton violence?
5. Do the gains from exposure to virtual traumatic non-fiction outweigh the losses from
that exposure?
Physiologically, we absorb virtual images from visual mediums. We construct virtual images from descriptive verbal and written communications. The more elaborate our constructions, or the sensory intensity and completeness of virtual mediums, the more intensely we experience and respond to them as if they were real in the physical sense. In this way, like other young mammals, we are playing within a range of “possible” albeit improbable encounters of objects or others within our environment. This fictional play can be preparatory in nature, an exercise in imagination, a safe opportunity to express emotion, or simply the enjoyment intelligent creatures find in playful activities.
The neurochemical pathways in the brain are the same for an image experienced in reality or one seen, or inferred from, within a virtual 3-D world. The virtual world is alive and real in some of the pathways of our minds. Our emotional and psychological responses parallel those that we would experience if the virtual images and inferences were a physical component of our existence. Our mind blurs the boundaries between the physical images perceived and the virtual images constructed in response to that which we are/have experienced. The greater the degree of submersion in the virtual imagery and our inferences, the more intensely our mind and body will respond to the experience as if it were physical.
My Questions:
1. Does your body suffer from exposure to traumatic fiction?
2. Does your body suffer from exposure to traumatic non-fiction?
3. What is gained from exposure to virtual fictional wanton violence?
4. What is lost from exposure to virtual fictional wanton violence?
5. Do the gains from exposure to virtual traumatic non-fiction outweigh the losses from
that exposure?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Scruton and the Art of Photography
Scruton convincingly shows that the art of photography is best served when judged by different standards than those applied to the art of painting and his definition of the ideal photograph. He stated, “it is not necessary to define the subject of a photograph in terms of this causal process…the subject is so defined for my logical ideal of photography: that premise is all my argument requires” (p 222.). He claims that the intentional act involved in the ideal photograph is not an essential part of the photographic relation. According to Scruton, the ideal photograph yields an appearance, but it is only interesting as a record of how an actual object looked, not as the realization of an intention (p. 214.). While this might be true of some types of photography some of the time, I do not believe it to be true for all types of photography, and certainly not all of the time.
I can compare photographers of nature, people, and landscapes, to artists, who painted scenes of village, country, aristocratic, military, or monastic life, utilizing existing landscapes, buildings, and accoutrements to capture the essence of the times and their intent.
Scruton’s argument that a photograph lacks “intentional existence” and is incapable of representing anything unreal excises the imagination and vision of the photographer and the observer from the artistic process. We might “see” dragons, unicorns, gnomes, or trolls in patterns of cloud formations, tree bark, boulders, sand, or landscapes, and choose to photograph, and even share these visions with others. Our sense of what the photographer intended might determine our experience of what is there, in the same manner a painter’s intentions might determine our experience of the subject of the painting (p 215).
I do not believe that a painting is necessarily a complete expression of the thought it contains. If that were true, then we would not need art reviews, art critics, or art experts, and we would not have discussions about incomprehensible art.
Portraiture photographs of people, and other sentient non-human animals, which capture the subject’s eyes looking directly at the photographer, can be compelling and revealing in a time-less mode. The ability of a photograph to capture the essence of a person is the reason many aboriginal people believed that photographs stole the soul of the person photographed. Scruton did not address the powerful stories told by this style of photography.
Our reading thus far this semester has illustrated the fact that knowledge does inform our aesthetic appreciation of art. When observing a photograph of children interacting, knowledge of children adds to our depth of understanding of the relational experience of the children, and possibly even insight into the nature of the soul of the children; who they were then, and what nature of adults they will most like become. Knowledge of the subject, whether that subject is animate or inanimate informs our relationship with its representation, whether painted or photographed. While viewing a photograph of the Grand Canyon, we can appreciate the processes of erosion that sculpted it, the edaphic qualities that provide its coloration, and the enormity of its scale. Knowledge of the subject can complete the expression of the thought within an image, and provide it with that sense of permanence Scruton believes is a requirement of true representational thought. These are some of the reasons I believe Scruton failed to convincingly show photography to be lesser art form than painting.
My Questions:
1. Does digitally optimizing a picture (according to the sense of the individual photographer) alter its basic nature - making it more or less of an artistic object?
2. Can photographs "capture the soul" of the sentient-being photographed?
I can compare photographers of nature, people, and landscapes, to artists, who painted scenes of village, country, aristocratic, military, or monastic life, utilizing existing landscapes, buildings, and accoutrements to capture the essence of the times and their intent.
Scruton’s argument that a photograph lacks “intentional existence” and is incapable of representing anything unreal excises the imagination and vision of the photographer and the observer from the artistic process. We might “see” dragons, unicorns, gnomes, or trolls in patterns of cloud formations, tree bark, boulders, sand, or landscapes, and choose to photograph, and even share these visions with others. Our sense of what the photographer intended might determine our experience of what is there, in the same manner a painter’s intentions might determine our experience of the subject of the painting (p 215).
I do not believe that a painting is necessarily a complete expression of the thought it contains. If that were true, then we would not need art reviews, art critics, or art experts, and we would not have discussions about incomprehensible art.
Portraiture photographs of people, and other sentient non-human animals, which capture the subject’s eyes looking directly at the photographer, can be compelling and revealing in a time-less mode. The ability of a photograph to capture the essence of a person is the reason many aboriginal people believed that photographs stole the soul of the person photographed. Scruton did not address the powerful stories told by this style of photography.
Our reading thus far this semester has illustrated the fact that knowledge does inform our aesthetic appreciation of art. When observing a photograph of children interacting, knowledge of children adds to our depth of understanding of the relational experience of the children, and possibly even insight into the nature of the soul of the children; who they were then, and what nature of adults they will most like become. Knowledge of the subject, whether that subject is animate or inanimate informs our relationship with its representation, whether painted or photographed. While viewing a photograph of the Grand Canyon, we can appreciate the processes of erosion that sculpted it, the edaphic qualities that provide its coloration, and the enormity of its scale. Knowledge of the subject can complete the expression of the thought within an image, and provide it with that sense of permanence Scruton believes is a requirement of true representational thought. These are some of the reasons I believe Scruton failed to convincingly show photography to be lesser art form than painting.
My Questions:
1. Does digitally optimizing a picture (according to the sense of the individual photographer) alter its basic nature - making it more or less of an artistic object?
2. Can photographs "capture the soul" of the sentient-being photographed?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Edit of "Can we have immoral art; and how might we characterize it?"
I apologize for the errors in editing my questions and the hiccup in my train of thought.
Question 4 should be: Once created, does a work of performance art have its own existence, separate from its performers?
Question 5. Once created, does a work of art have its own existence separate from observers?
Question 4 should be: Once created, does a work of performance art have its own existence, separate from its performers?
Question 5. Once created, does a work of art have its own existence separate from observers?
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