I'll grant that all art, insofar as it needs a creator, needs at least an audience of one. But: We're gonna have to agree to disagree on this note. The reason that the old tree/forest/sound adage sticks around is that it's not so easily answered. You think the tree doesn't make a sound, I think it does. Not sure how to reconcile that. However: even if I granted you that an artwork needs an audience to be considered art (Was Emily Dickinson's poetry art before it came out of her drawer, by the way? Is it any less impressive for using such delineated and now-overused meter?), it doesn't at all necessarily follow that the audience's regard or understanding is what dictates potency. In fact, there's plenty of art whose value is hotly contested- painting of the Madonna made out of elephant shit comes to mind, as does Warhol's soup can, as does anything Norman Rockwell ever made. People can't agree on the value or power of these pieces, but they'll argue to the ends of the earth about them. In this case, isn't the fact that a work evokes any kind of strong, sustained response at all a testament to its power? And if an audience can't exactly pinpoint the source of a piece's power, but recognizes that it's there- what does that mean for your assertion that we have to understand a work completely (i.e. in the mother language) before it's truly powerful? Which gets to your kissing analogy. I agree- we can't, after kissing the same girl, assert that we had the same kiss. But in kissing her, and in having that conversation, we're still agreeing on a fair number of premises- what a kiss is, what, generally, the emotional context of a kiss might be, why we'd be talking about it in the first place. If it seems like now I'm just building semantic sandcastles, consider: the Old Testament, right? Incredible work of art, if nothing else. And that "if nothing else" is the point- people have been arguing about the specifics of the Old Testament since, what, its conception? What each verse means, how it ought to be applied, who wrote which line, how many times has it been revised and in how many languages. Whether it's true or imagined or what have you. But despite all the authors and all the revisions and all the translations- despite not being able to agree on whether or not we had the same kiss- the CORE of the Old Testament remains intact- a conversation about spirituality, ethics, politics, a struggle to find higher meaning. These basic values are what help make the Old Testament so powerful, alongside all of the linguistic tricks. Despite the linguistic tricks. Good art is potent on a much more fundamental level than you're asserting for the sake of this argument. We don't have to have exactly the same kiss. We just need to go out and kiss, and then talk about how great, or how unsatisfying, kissing might be. And lastly, regarding The Odyssey- I agree! Homer is a good example. But it wasn't a cheap shot. In fact, it was a great example exactly because of the way The Odyssey came about. The Odyssey isn't just a great work because of its driving concepts and their continued validity in modern times. The Odyssey is also a great piece of craftwork. It anticipates, pre-empts cultural change, so that the further it gets kicked forward, the more its shape adapts to modern convention. It's survived millennia, countless re-tellings and adaptations. It's jumped across media, and still, people appreciate it. That mutability is written into its form, just as important and impressive as the messages it conveys. How does this apply to your argument? Well, I'd say that when you insist on either perfect cultural translation or else inevitable decay in potency, you're taking an incredibly narrow view of what makes an artwork, any artwork, painted or spoken or sung, "potent." It's not just the words. It's not even necessarily a clearly-delineated perfect idea at the core of the words (although that, I'd argue, is a lot of what makes a lot of art great). It can be as simple as the format that those words are put into. An oral tradition that allows the edges of a piece to soften with time and in so doing adapt perfectly to future cultures. Does it matter that we have every word down perfectly? No. It's enough that the form survives intact and vibrant as ever. So no, I just can't agree that the audience is what gives a work of art its power, and that true appreciation requires perfect cultural translation, and that as soon as an audience deems a work trite or simple, then the work's power is gone. Much more likely that the audience is just too lazy or too assured in their cultural supremacy to look deeply enough into the work.If no one is viewing it as an access point to "beauty", then I don't think it's potent. If no one is looking at it, then what does the creator's skill matter? It's not as if ability is the only factor in popularizing a work, or making it accessible.
No no, I'm not talking koans. I'm saying, "what does it matter if it makes a sound, if no one is around to hear it?" Also, at this point, it's well understood that we're agreeing to disagree since in my understanding, this is how the conversation started. No, I never asserted that full understanding was necessary. In fact, I argue that it's not possible. At all. I really think that the spark of your argument is that you don't understand what I'm talking about. For example, the way this conversation has bloomed into an umbrella of all art when I was talking about poetry. Poetry is an art made of fine strokes, subtleties and nuance. Otherwise, it's just language and language on its own isn't poetry. Interesting that you bring up the Old Testament. Hebrew was not a spoken language until very recently. Instead, it was a temple language. One of the chief ways in which it differs from English, is that English is full of static verbs, for example: "is", which implies no end to existence and no change. Hebrew does not use this system. Instead, it makes heavy use of progressive tenses. Things are always "becoming" in Hebrew. So yeah, the precise words and precise order definitely make a huge difference, especially if one is to translate a language whose very letters have individual meanings. Yes, the core is important, but I don't believe that the core is the most important thing, but rather the core as presented by the execution. If this were not so, then why is Romeo and Juliet considered great? Hang on, let me re-write it to illustrate: "There's this dude that likes this chick, but she's like, 14? And like, their families have been bitching like, forever? And, um, y'know it's like, about time that Romeo started fucking some babies into some bitch because like, the times demanded it of him? But he totally loves Juliet, because that one time they met? Was the fuckin' bomb. But then there was trickery and shit and crossed stars and then they fuckin died. Ro. Man. Tic. As. Fuck." Uh, so the core is the same but let's be honest: that execution sucked balls and in fact, it will likely prevent some from getting the full-impact of the story it describes, which is nuanced, which is particular and which is undeniably Shakespeare. To me, translations are at their very best, very good descriptions. I mean, forgive my dramatization, as it is beyond the realm of worst case scenario, but not out of the realm of possibility. To put it another way, "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" can of course be translated as a version of, "what is that light coming through that window over there?" but it lacks the quality that makes it Shakespeare. I would consider that to be less potent. Not to mention, the sounds would be completely different and I think that those particular sounds have their particular drama. I didn't mean that The Odyssey was a cheap shot, I meant the crack about "not using blue". And to me, The Odyssey is worthy of respect and admiration, but I don't find it beautiful. Certainly, it has its power but am I sure that I understand its power as well as I can? No. For you to demand that I should find it beautiful, is ludicrous. Again, I don't believe that we have been speaking about beauty in the same way, which I am fine with, but am curious about. Of course beauty is in the blah blah of the blah blah, but even so, I don't think it's the same for everyone. I do not mean to imply that people have greater or lesser capacities for understanding or experiencing beauty, but I do mean to say that what constitutes the beautiful can be fundamentally different to the point of mutual unintelligibility as seems to be the case here. Then again, you seem to be talking about all art, whereas I was talking of poetry and to a limited extent, painting. As for your closing, it seems like you are saying that pearls before swine are still pearls and what I am saying is that pearls before swine makes no difference to the swine. While you disagree with me, I don't necessarily disagree with the thrust of what you are saying, but it doesn't ring true for me and obviously, my perspective doesn't ring true for you. I don't know for certain whether or not what you've espoused in this thread have solidified into belief for you, or are ideas that you would like to have challenged and are willing to change. As for my perspectives in this thread, they are my ideas as they are today. I welcome the inevitable change that will come to my conception of what poetry and art are and it may be that I will someday feel as you do, but at the time of writing I do not. I'm glad to get a look inside someone else's mind though and I do genuinely appreciate the conversation.We're gonna have to agree to disagree on this note. The reason that the old tree/forest/sound adage sticks around is that it's not so easily answered. You think the tree doesn't make a sound, I think it does. Not sure how to reconcile that.
And if an audience can't exactly pinpoint the source of a piece's power, but recognizes that it's there- what does that mean for your assertion that we have to understand a work completely (i.e. in the mother language) before it's truly powerful?
And lastly, regarding The Odyssey- I agree! Homer is a good example. But it wasn't a cheap shot.