Touchstones
Not sure why yesterday's post formatted itself weirdly. Silly computers. People always say (and it's very annoying), "Computers don't do anything wrong, it's the user who's at fault". Not true! Computers, apparently, "only do what you tell them to". Not true! They manifestly do not do what I tell them to, nor what I ask nicely, nor what I beg. The 'brainier' computers get the more frustrating they are - it's wonderful, them using some kind of freaky binary intuition to figure out how you want to do things; and not so wonderful when they stop being cleverly intuitive and start being stubbornly obnoxious. Yes, the computer last night was being obnoxious. Whatever next - Artificial Intelligence? Actually, if that happened I think I'd move to a cottage in the Highlands and hide from it all - I'd be like Will Smith in I, Robot with the motorbike and everything (though perhaps without the bionic arm or heroic tendencies).
The artificialization and/or mechanization of things that might perhaps be better left a bit unsure, fallible and personally-touched or interpreted has been bugging me today. A tenuous link with I, Robot and my computer battles, but never mind. Poetry: Matthew Arnold's writings on. In his essay, 'The Study of Poetry' (1880), Arnold introduces to literary criticism the concept of a 'touchstone' (I'm sure others suggested the idea beforehand, but Arnold's the one who gave us the convenient word for it, so he gets the credit - bit like Aristarchus being obscured behind the cheeky Copernicus; it's easier to say "Copernican" than "Aristarchusian", anyway). He says this:
"[T]here can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. [...] [A]n infallible touchstone for detecting the presence or absence of high poetic quality, and also the degree of this quality, in all other poetry which we may place beside them."
He does concede that, "Of course we are not to require this other poetry to resemble [the touchstones]; it may be very dissimilar," which is generous of him. Arnold is trying, desperately, to justify his profession (both poet and critic), and things get a bit hyperbolic:
"More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us, to console us, to sustain us. Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry."
Though not all poetry will stand up to this obligation, and Arnold says as much that, "if we conceive thus highly of the destinies of poetry, we must also set our standard for poetry high, since poetry, to be capable of fulfilling such high destinies, must be a poetry of a high order of excellence. We must accustom ourselves to a high standard and to a strict judgment." Herein lies the birth of the touchstone, the guide for objective observation of morally enhancing and 'suitable' literature destined to replace major human belief systems.
His argumentative style, however, is frustrating. Or, more probably, he is taking on a topic too big, a point too unprovable (cf: Milton wrestling with multiple ideas of God in Paradise Lost, a brilliant poem yet still [arguably] falling short of what it's trying to do) - whilst at the same time basically saying, "If you don't agree with me you are an insensitive reader incapable of higher understandings of the world. Get on with yer manual labour, scum," (That might be a paraphrase...). So it's kind of a win--win for him, at least as far as his perception of his readers goes; though his argument remains shifty. He quotes liberally from his touchstone texts (primarily Milton, Shakespeare, Homer & Dante), but doesn't do anything with them - they are nice examples of poetry, sure (well, Milton, Shakey & Dante are, but I'm stumped entirely by Homer's Greek so we'll ignore him for now), but there is no way to prove that they're substantially better than other good bits of writing - or even, in many cases, better than some less enjoyable pieces. He just dumps pretty quotations and then concludes that,
"These few lines, if we have tact and can use them, are enough even of themselves to keep clear and sound our judgments about poetry, to save us from fallacious estimates of it, to conduct us to a real estimate."
How, exactly? I don't see Milton's verse standing at every text I read saying, "Emergency exits are here, here and here". And because resemblance isn't necessary, nothing about a touchstone text can be compared to another text except a feeling which, though I'm happy for this to be a factor in everyday talkings about literature (or non-literature), is absolutely not a foundation for a reading theory - at least, not one that professes to be objective. Apparently the touchstones are sufficient that, "If we are thoroughly penetrated by their power, we shall find that we have acquired a sense enabling us, whatever poetry may be laid before us, to feel the degree in which a high poetical quality is present or wanting there." I'm unconvinced.
Mainly I'm unconvinced because it doesn't take into account any purpose that poetry might have, other than to be Simply Wonderful Verse (or prose, I spose). Milton's lines,
"Darken'd so, yet shone
Above them all the archangel; but his face
Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care
Sat on his faded cheek...",
which Arnold cites as a touchstone, might be poetry of the highest degree, but it doesn't compare to Edward Lear's nonsense poetry if you just want to make someone smile --
"There was an old person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits."
Similarly, Lear wouldn't be well-placed in a theological epic. Probably. So which is the "better" poetry? I may have gone to extremes here, but the point stands. There's a whole nother argument here on what constitutes 'good' or 'worthy' literature, and whether it's possible/worthwhile/right to try to dictate what is Good and what is Bad in the world of words; but that debate's been raging long enough for me to leave it at least another night.
The artificialization and/or mechanization of things that might perhaps be better left a bit unsure, fallible and personally-touched or interpreted has been bugging me today. A tenuous link with I, Robot and my computer battles, but never mind. Poetry: Matthew Arnold's writings on. In his essay, 'The Study of Poetry' (1880), Arnold introduces to literary criticism the concept of a 'touchstone' (I'm sure others suggested the idea beforehand, but Arnold's the one who gave us the convenient word for it, so he gets the credit - bit like Aristarchus being obscured behind the cheeky Copernicus; it's easier to say "Copernican" than "Aristarchusian", anyway). He says this:
"[T]here can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. [...] [A]n infallible touchstone for detecting the presence or absence of high poetic quality, and also the degree of this quality, in all other poetry which we may place beside them."
He does concede that, "Of course we are not to require this other poetry to resemble [the touchstones]; it may be very dissimilar," which is generous of him. Arnold is trying, desperately, to justify his profession (both poet and critic), and things get a bit hyperbolic:
"More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us, to console us, to sustain us. Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry."
Though not all poetry will stand up to this obligation, and Arnold says as much that, "if we conceive thus highly of the destinies of poetry, we must also set our standard for poetry high, since poetry, to be capable of fulfilling such high destinies, must be a poetry of a high order of excellence. We must accustom ourselves to a high standard and to a strict judgment." Herein lies the birth of the touchstone, the guide for objective observation of morally enhancing and 'suitable' literature destined to replace major human belief systems.
His argumentative style, however, is frustrating. Or, more probably, he is taking on a topic too big, a point too unprovable (cf: Milton wrestling with multiple ideas of God in Paradise Lost, a brilliant poem yet still [arguably] falling short of what it's trying to do) - whilst at the same time basically saying, "If you don't agree with me you are an insensitive reader incapable of higher understandings of the world. Get on with yer manual labour, scum," (That might be a paraphrase...). So it's kind of a win--win for him, at least as far as his perception of his readers goes; though his argument remains shifty. He quotes liberally from his touchstone texts (primarily Milton, Shakespeare, Homer & Dante), but doesn't do anything with them - they are nice examples of poetry, sure (well, Milton, Shakey & Dante are, but I'm stumped entirely by Homer's Greek so we'll ignore him for now), but there is no way to prove that they're substantially better than other good bits of writing - or even, in many cases, better than some less enjoyable pieces. He just dumps pretty quotations and then concludes that,
"These few lines, if we have tact and can use them, are enough even of themselves to keep clear and sound our judgments about poetry, to save us from fallacious estimates of it, to conduct us to a real estimate."
How, exactly? I don't see Milton's verse standing at every text I read saying, "Emergency exits are here, here and here". And because resemblance isn't necessary, nothing about a touchstone text can be compared to another text except a feeling which, though I'm happy for this to be a factor in everyday talkings about literature (or non-literature), is absolutely not a foundation for a reading theory - at least, not one that professes to be objective. Apparently the touchstones are sufficient that, "If we are thoroughly penetrated by their power, we shall find that we have acquired a sense enabling us, whatever poetry may be laid before us, to feel the degree in which a high poetical quality is present or wanting there." I'm unconvinced.
Mainly I'm unconvinced because it doesn't take into account any purpose that poetry might have, other than to be Simply Wonderful Verse (or prose, I spose). Milton's lines,
"Darken'd so, yet shone
Above them all the archangel; but his face
Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care
Sat on his faded cheek...",
which Arnold cites as a touchstone, might be poetry of the highest degree, but it doesn't compare to Edward Lear's nonsense poetry if you just want to make someone smile --
"There was an old person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he'd eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits."
Similarly, Lear wouldn't be well-placed in a theological epic. Probably. So which is the "better" poetry? I may have gone to extremes here, but the point stands. There's a whole nother argument here on what constitutes 'good' or 'worthy' literature, and whether it's possible/worthwhile/right to try to dictate what is Good and what is Bad in the world of words; but that debate's been raging long enough for me to leave it at least another night.
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Ah ha! It seems that the format goes stupid when I put italics in the main texts (and from that point the damage seems irreparable, so there's not point getting rid of them). How curious. I certainly didn't ask it to change the format, the bastard! Never mind. Mystery partially solved, that's good enough for now.
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