Monday, February 9, 2015

Reflection on Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on the Origins of Inequality - Please comment in response to this post by 9 am Monday, February 16



The Discourse on the Origins of Inequality is one of Rousseau's most influential works. It is first of all his attempt to explain the difference between "natural" and "artificial" sources of inequality--the ones mandated (in his account) by nature vs. the ones created by society. Unlike many writers of his time, he does not hold that differences of rank and status in society reflect some kind of difference in natural endowment. Ultimately, he holds that property is not natural, but an institution of society that brought many evils with it.

But we also find in the Discourse a lot of Rousseau's other ideas about society and nature. To prepare for a discussion on February 23, please respond to one of these questions by February 16 (just in order to leave the following week open for you to focus on your essay on Frankenstein).

1) Rousseau contrasts humans in society with "men in a state of nature." What is this state of nature?
2) Rousseau holds generally that "natural man" is happier than man in society. What does he mean? Why?
3) How important is the idea of Freedom to Rousseau's vision of society and nature?

Friday, February 6, 2015

Reflection on Edmund Burke on the Sublime - Please post comment by 9 am Monday, Feb 9


Frederic Church, Niagara Falls, 1857


Hope you've had time to read and consider the excerpts from Edmund Burke on the Sublime. To prepare for our discussion on February 9, please respond to ONE of these questions as a comment to this post. Please do NOT consult external resources, but frame your answer according to your own sense of Burke's points, the pleasures we take in art, the value of the Sublime, etc.

Burke's basic idea is psychological: the Sublime is essentially the response to things that could induce pain but instead induce "delight." So:

1) How does something painful ("terrible," "dangerous," etc.) become delightful? What good does this delight do?

2) Burke contrasts the Sublime with the Beautiful. What's the point of this opposition?

3) Does Burke's idea of the Sublime help us to notice, or to understand, anything in particular about Frankenstein, or about the experience or value of reading the book?


If you see another comment posted here that you want to respond to, please go ahead and do so.

As always, please tell me if you have any trouble getting access to this blog, and if access doesn't work, please email your comment to me at: bwelt@gwu.edu so I can post it for you.
If you are inspired to share any other examples of the Sublime as you understand it, go ahead and create a post--if you have accepted the invitation to become an author at this blog.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

The Romantic Sublime in Art



Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare, 1781. 
Fuseli was a lover of Mary Wollstonecraft's before she met William Godwin, 
Mary Shelly's father. He was also married. Wollstonecraft  proposed a ménage à trois,
which Fuseli rejected, and dropped her. 




Joseph Wright of Derby, An Experiment on a Bird in an Air-Pump, 1768. 
Not an instance of the Sublime, the painting does indicate how experimentation might be undertaken in private homes, to educate members of the household. Wright is interested in depicting a moment of drama: Will the vacuum be released, allowing in oxygen to revive the asphyxiated bird (in the glass bell at top)? The drama is shown in the varied responses of the subjects--including the lovers at the left, who take no notice of the scene.



Caspar David Friedrich, The Wanderer Above the Mists, 1818
This definitely Romantic solitary figure, contemplating the magnificence of Nature, is a contemporary and maybe a kindred spirit of Victor Frankenstein.




Frederic Church, Niagara Falls, 1857. 
One of the most celebrated works in the Corcoran Gallery collection of American art.




Gilbert Moran, The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, 1875
European expansion into North America may have influenced the increasing interest in the Sublime. To 19th-century Europeans, America meant vast expanses of breath-taking natural wonders; Americans themselves identified expansionism and "Manifest Destiny" with a growing interest in preserving (as well as exploiting) these apparently limitless wonders.




Karl Bodmer, Niagara Falls, 1830s



Horace Vernet, Stormy Coast After a Shipwreck, 1820s




JMW Turner, The Wreck of a Transport Ship, 1810



John Martin, The Great Day of His Wrath, 1853




Francisco Goya, Saturn Devouring His Son, 1820s



Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night, 1889




The Photographic Sublime: Landscape Photography




Greenland fjord by Bob Ford for Reuters, 1009


The Technological Sublime: Human-Made Power


From James Whale, Frankenstein, 1931

In the twentieth century, it appeared that Sublime themes could be impressively represented in motion pictures--not only in genres that evoke a "delightful" feeling of apprehension or terror, but also in contemplation of the vastness of Nature, as in Westerns or Science Fiction. 
The representation of the power of electricity or of nuclear fission suggests what has been called a "technological Sublime," which appears when we are overwhelmed by the power of human-made machinery, or even theories about the cosmos. 

Monday, February 2, 2015

Edmund Burke - from A Philosophical Inquiry Inquiry Into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful


Edmund Burke (1729-1797) - from A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of The Sublime and Beautiful (1757)

At the age of nineteen, the Irish writer Edmund Burke wrote a treatise on the sublime which established the concept as a central one in modern aesthetics. Building on the English tradition of the 18th century, he turned the consideration of the sublime from the context of rhetoric, as classical texts did, to a general theory of art and feeling--“sensibility,” as his age came to call it--and inspired other philosophers, such as Kant and Hegel, to see the opposition of the sublime and the beautiful as a way of constructing a rational analysis of aesthetic response built on scientific knowledge and the emerging field of psychology.
    An important member of parliament and political orator, Burke is also known as the father of modern conservatism--although aside from his defense of stable authority in Reflections on the Revolution in France, his political views were generally classically liberal.

  The passions which belong to self-preservation turn on pain and danger; they are simply painful when their causes immediately affect us; they are delightful when we have an idea of pain and danger, without being actually in such circumstances; this delight I have not called pleasure, because it turns on pain, and because it is different enough from any idea of positive pleasure. Whatever excites this delight, I call sublime. The passions belonging to self-preservation are the strongest of all the passions.   
  The second head to which the passions are referred with relation to their final cause, is society. There are two sorts of societies. The first is, the society of sex. The passion belonging to this is called love, and it contains a mixture of lust; its object is the beauty of women. The other is the great society with man and all other animals. The passion subservient to this is called likewise love, but it has no mixture of lust, and its object is beauty; which is a name I shall apply to all such qualities in things as induce in us a sense of affection and tenderness, or some other passion the most nearly resembling these. The passion of love has its rise in positive pleasure; it is, like all things which grow out of pleasure, capable of being mixed with a mode of uneasiness, that is, when an idea of its object is excited in the mind with an idea at the same time of having irretrievably lost it. This mixed sense of pleasure I have not called pain, because it turns upon actual pleasure, and because it is, both in its cause and in most of its effects, of a nature altogether different.   
  Next to the general passion we have for society, to a choice in which we are directed by the pleasure we have in the object, the particular passion under this head called sympathy has the greatest extent. The nature of this passion is, to put us in the place of another in whatever circumstance he is in, and to affect us in a like manner; so that this passion may, as the occasion requires, turn either on pain or pleasure

Of the Sublime
  Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest emotion which the mind is capable of feeling. I say the strongest emotion, because I am satisfied the ideas of pain are much more powerful than those which enter on the part of pleasure. Without all doubt, the torments which we may be made to suffer are much greater in their effect on the body and mind, than any pleasure which the most learned voluptuary could suggest, or than the liveliest imagination, and the most sound and exquisitely sensible body, could enjoy. . . . But as pain is stronger in its operation than pleasure, so death is in general a much more affecting idea than pain; because there are very few pains, however exquisite, which are not preferred to death: nay, what generally makes pain itself, if I may say so, more painful, is, that it is considered as an emissary of this king of terrors. When danger or pain press too nearly, they are incapable of giving any delight, and are simply terrible; but at certain distances, and with certain modifications, they may be, and they are, delightful, as we every day experience. . . . Astonishment, as I have said, is the effect of the sublime in its highest degree; the inferior effects are admiration, reverence, and respect.

Terror
   No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.  For fear being an apprehension of pain or death, it operates in a manner that resembles actual pain. Whatever therefore is terrible, with regard to sight, is sublime too, whether this cause of terror be endued with greatness of dimensions or not; for it is impossible to look on anything as trifling, or contemptible, that may be dangerous. There are many animals, who though far from being large, are yet capable of raising ideas of the sublime, because they are considered as objects of terror. As serpents and poisonous animals of almost all kinds. . . . Indeed, terror is in all cases whatsoever, either more openly or latently, the ruling principle of the sublime.

Obscurity
  To make anything very terrible, obscurity seems in general to be necessary. When we know the full extent of any danger, when we can accustom our eyes to it, a great deal of the apprehension vanishes. Every one will be sensible of this, who considers how greatly night adds to our dread, in all cases of danger, and how much the notions of ghosts and goblins, of which none can form clear ideas, affect minds which give credit to the popular tales concerning such sorts of beings. Those despotic governments, which are founded on the passions of men, and principally upon the passion of fear, keep their chief as much as may be from the public eye. The policy has been the same in many cases of religion. Almost all the heathen temples were dark. Even in the barbarous temples of the Americans at this day, they keep their idol in a dark part of the hut, which is consecrated to his worship. For this purpose too the Druids performed all their ceremonies in the bosom of the darkest woods, and in the shade of the oldest and most spreading oaks.

Power
  Besides those things which directly suggest the idea of danger, and those which produce a similar effect from a mechanical cause, I know of nothing sublime, which is not some modification of power. And this branch rises, as naturally as the other two branches, from terror, the common stock of everything that is sublime. . . . where the chances for equal degrees of suffering or enjoyment are in any sort equal, the idea of the suffering must always be prevalent. And indeed the ideas of pain, and, above all, of death, are so very affecting, that whilst we remain in the presence of whatever is supposed to have the power of inflicting either, it is impossible to be perfectly free from terror. . . . Pleasure follows the will; and therefore we are generally affected with it by many things of a force greatly inferior to our own. But pain is always inflicted by a power in some way superior, because we never submit to pain willingly. So that strength, violence, pain, and terror, are ideas that rush in upon the mind together. . . .
  . . . The power which arises from institution in kings and commanders, has the same connexion with terror. Sovereigns are frequently addressed with the title of dread majesty. . . I know some people are of opinion, that no awe, no degree of terror, accompanies the idea of power; and have hazarded to affirm, that we can contemplate the idea of God himself without any such emotion. I purposely avoided, when I first considered this subject, to introduce the idea of that great and tremendous Being, as an example in an argument so light as this; though it frequently occurred to me, not as an objection to, but as a strong confirmation of, my notions in this matter. I hope, in what I am going to say, I shall avoid presumption, where it is almost impossible for any mortal to speak with strict propriety. I say then that whilst we consider the Godhead merely as he is an object of the understanding, which forms a complex idea of power, wisdom, justice, goodness, all stretched to a degree far exceeding the bounds of our comprehension, whilst we consider the Divinity in this refined and abstracted light, the imagination and passions are little or nothing affected. But because we are bound, by the condition of our nature, to ascend to these pure and intellectual ideas, through the medium of sensible images, and to judge of these divine qualities by their evident acts and exertions, it becomes extremely hard to disentangle our idea of the cause from the effect by which we are led to know it. Thus when we contemplate the Deity, his attributes and their operation, coming united on the mind, form a sort of sensible image, and as such are capable of affecting the imagination. Now, though in a just idea of the Deity perhaps none of his attributes are predominant, yet, to our imagination, his power is by far the most striking. Some reflection, some comparing, is necessary to satisfy us of his wisdom, his justice, and his goodness. To be struck with his power, it is only necessary that we should open our eyes. But whilst we contemplate so vast an object, under the arm, as it were, of almighty power, and invested upon every side with omnipresence, we shrink into the minuteness of our own nature, and are, in a manner, annihilated before him. And though a consideration of his other attributes may relieve, in some measure, our apprehensions; yet no conviction of the justice with which it is exercised, nor the mercy with which it is tempered, can wholly remove the terror that naturally arises from a force which nothing can withstand. If we rejoice, we rejoice with trembling: and even whilst we are receiving benefits, we cannot but shudder at a power which can confer benefits of such mighty importance. . . . In the Scripture, wherever God is represented as appearing or speaking, everything terrible in nature is called up to heighten the awe and solemnity of the Divine presence.

Some dimensions of the sublime:

  All general privations are great, because they are all terrible; Vacuity, Darkness, Solitude, and Silence.

  Greatness  of dimension [Vastness] is a powerful cause of the sublime. This is too evident, and the observation too common, to need any illustration

  Infinity has a tendency to fill the mind with that sort of delightful horror, which is the most genuine effect and truest test of the sublime. There are scarce any things which can become the objects of our senses, that are really and in their own nature infinite. But the eye not being able to perceive the bounds of many things, they seem to be infinite, and they produce the same effects as if they were really so. We are deceived in the like manner, if the parts of some large object are so continued to any indefinite number, that the imagination meets no check which may hinder its extending them at pleasure.

  Magnificence is likewise a source of the sublime. A great profusion of things, which are splendid or valuable in themselves, is magnificent. The starry heaven, though it occurs so very frequently to our view, never fails to excite an idea of grandeur. This cannot be owing to the stars themselves, separately considered. The number is certainly the cause. The apparent disorder augments the grandeur, for the appearance of care is highly contrary to our idea of magnificence. Besides, the stars lie in such apparent confusion, as makes it impossible on ordinary occasions to reckon them. This gives them the advantage of a sort of infinity. In works of art, this kind of grandeur, which consists in multitude, is to be very courteously admitted; because a profusion of excellent things is not to be attained, or with too much difficulty; and because in many cases this splendid confusion would destroy all use, which should be attended to in most of the works of art with the greatest care; besides, it is to be considered, that unless you can produce an appearance of infinity by your disorder, you will have disorder only without magnificence. There are, however, a sort of fireworks, and some other things, that in this way succeed well, and are truly grand.

  Excessive loudness alone is sufficient to overpower the soul, to suspend its action, and to fill it with terror. The noise of vast cataracts, raging storms, thunder, or artillery, awakes a great and awful sensation in the mind, though we can observe no nicety or artifice in those sorts of music. The shouting of multitudes has a similar effect; and, by the sole strength of the sound, so amazes and confounds the imagination, that, in this staggering and hurry of the mind, the best-established tempers can scarcely forbear being borne down, and joining in the common cry, and common resolution of the crowd.

  A sudden beginning or sudden cessation of sound of any considerable force, has the name power. The attention is roused by this; and the faculties driven forward, as it were, on their guard. Whatever, either in sights or sounds, makes the transition from one extreme to the other easy, causes no terror, and consequently can be no cause of greatness. In everything sudden and unexpected, we are apt to start; that is, we have a perception of danger, and our nature rouses us to guard against it.

  The idea of bodily pain, in all the modes and degrees of labour, pain, anguish, torment, is productive of the sublime.



The Rime of the Ancient Mariner


Samuel Taylor Coleridge
1772-1834

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner










Images from 19th-century illustrated editions by Gustave Doré and J. Noel Paton

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Frankenstein - Critical Questions - Please respond with a comment by 9 am Monday, February 2


To get started on synthesizing your own thoughts on Frankenstein, and to prepare for discussion at our next two sessions, please select ONE of the questions below and in a paragraph, suggest how you would develop your response.
This does NOT require providing an answer to the question. Instead, consider what you find in the text that could indicate a direction, and what KIND of answer you find satisfying. Considering the questions within parentheses should help. For example, an answer that addresses what you know about Frankenstein's psychological character would be very different from one that sees the book as a philosophical statement. You might try free writing -- write about the question without pausing to remove pen from paper (or fingers from keys); don't allow yourself to stop, but transcribe what's going through your head until you feel you've run out of steam. 
This exercise is intended to prompt thinking about what you see as the ground of interpretation--what kind of response to a critical question seems to you like a relevant and satisfactory response?
You do NOT need to select the question you'll write on for February 23 now.

1) Why does Victor Frankenstein create his creature? (What do we learn from his own account—including things he does as well as says? What can we infer from what Walton, his teachers, his family and others say of him, and from what he reveals about himself? Do you understand his ambition more as a desire to extend knowledge, or as an unfulfilled personal need?)

2) Is the creature Frankenstein creates a human being? (What view do you think the author takes? Are there any characteristics or qualities definitive of humanity—according to the book’s view or your own? Is it important to consider how he differs from human beings? What does the Creature himself seem to think?)

3) Why does Frankenstein’s creature want a mate? Why does Frankenstein decide not to provide one? (What is the role of sex and reproduction in the story?  Are Frankenstein’s motivations clear and reasonable or obscure and suspect? What would happen if Frankenstein followed through? What wouldn’t happen?)


4) What is the source of the enmity between Frankenstein and his creation? (Why does Frankenstein abandon the creature? How does the creature respond? What lesson or principle does each of them infer from this? Is the book offering an allegory or lesson in this central conflict?)

Monday, January 12, 2015

La Jetée: Critical Analysis and Formulating a Thesis - Please post by Jan 19


Please post your response as a comment to this blog post by or on JAN 19 so we can all read them by class time on JAN 26.
Once you are an author at this blog, you can create your own post, including images as well as text.

1) Prepare a one-paragraph statement that answers this question:


How does La Jetée convey a message about the impact of technology on humanity?


When you’ve completed the paragraph:

2) Summarize its point in a one-sentence thesis answering the question.


3) Post the paragraph, followed by the thesis, to the blog, on or by Jan 19

4) Read other people’s theses and be prepared to discuss them in class on Jan 26.

 

It will help to consider:

What is the story really about?

How does the plot present the story?

What role do science and technology play in the plot?

What makes this film unusual?

What do these unusual formal and stylistic features contribute?


Please do not consult any resources--criticism, reviews, fan pages, etc.--available online or in print before you write. Rely on your own analysis and ideas.