Skidmore College Art and Ethics?—The (F)utility of Art Author(s): JOYCE CAROL OATES Source: Salmagundi, No. 111 (Summer 1996), pp. 75-85 Published by: Skidmore College Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/40535989 . Accessed: 28/08/2011 16:20 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. Skidmore College is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Salmagundi. http://www.jstor.org Artand Ethics?The (F)utility ofArt BY JOYCE CAROL OATES Nothing beyondtheState,abovetheState,againsttheState.Everything totheState,fortheState,in theState. - BenitoMussolini Allartis quiteuseless. -Oscar Wilde The issue for the artist,of course, is: whose ethics? whose morality?whose standardsof propriety?whose community?whose cenwhose State? sors? whose judges?-prosecutors?-jailers?-executioners? The customsof thetribemay seem to outside witnessesto be as arbitraryas language itself-language, in which words for things arc understoodto be not-things-but,withinthe tribe,theyare rarelynegotiable.Stillless are theyviolable by theindividualexceptat greatrisk.(As thedistressingcase ofSalman Rushdiehas made clear.) Whatever"taboo" is, out of what chthoniandarknessit arises, one thingabout "taboo" is clear: you violate itonly at a price. The reigningethicsof a societyis the stonewall againstwhichtheindividualmay flinghimself,to no avail- or be flung,and broken.As thepoet FrankBidartsays in one of his poems fromIn The WesternNight: Collected Poems 1965-90: 1. Man is a MORAL animal. - IF you convince 2. You can get humanbeings to do anything 76 JOYCE CAROL OATES themit is moral. 3. You can convince humanbeings anythingis moral. Even if one does not incur the wrathof the authorities,or, in a "free" democracylikeourown,thewrathofelectedor self-appointedcensors,the artist'srelationshipto ethicsis always problematic,paradoxical. Always thereis thequestionnotonlyof whose ethicsbuttheissue of art'spurpose in thecommunity:If artexists as a mediumby which"ethical" messages are conveyed,an implicitmoralitysanctioned,why troublewith"art" at all? Why theambiguous- and ambagious- strategiesof "art"? "If I had a message," Ernest Hemingway is said to have said, "I would send a telegram."This wittyrejoindermakes us laugh, suggestingas it does a naive questionor an impertinent demand; yet,in moreelevated quarters, wheretheartistis notunderattackbutindeed may be highlyrespected,it is commonto encounterquestionsof "theme,""vision," "world-view," as ifsuchmightbe extractedfromthebodyoftheartist's work;as ifsuchwere somehow distinctand separablefromtheexperienceoftheart-workitself, available fora sortof economical freeze-drying. Whatwas yourpurpose in writingthis? Whatwere you tryingto convey?Is thishow you see the world? In the artist'sown experience,of course, art is fundamentally indefinable,unsayable;thereis somethingsacred about itsdemandsupon thesoul, somethinginherently mysteriousin theformsittakes,no less than in its contents.Henry James's metaphorof the art of fictionas a "dim underworld,[a] greatglazed tankof art"in which"strangesubjectsfloat" is a compellingone, in theparable-likestory"The Middle Years," as is his rhapsodicinsistenceupon theessential"madness" of artat theconclusion ofthat story.Here is a contemporarynovelist,MarilynneRobinson: The novel cherishes what is unuttered, uncountenanced, uninvolved-the heart's darkness and bitterness.It will not embarrasstheguiltiestsecretwithrevelation.All sortsofquestions flourishin thismurkyatmosphere.What is the self? How does identitytake shape? ...What is guiltand how is it to be borne in the absence of justice or expiation?These questions change as soon as theyare put into words because theyhave theirmost Art& Ethics 77 profound meaning as sensation, in aching discomfortslike loneliness,awkwardness,emptiness,and dread. All writersknow this truth:thingschange as theyare put into words because theyhave theirmostprofoundmeaningas sensation,theheart's passion and convictionpriorto any linguisticeffortto explain, express, summarize,dramatize.We know- beforewe comprehendthe termsof ourveryknowing.We violatethebeautifulsubtletiesofourartbyspeaking reductivelyof it, yet how else can we speak of it,at all? Or perhaps we cannot,and should not,except in the verytermsof art: Tell all theTruthbut tell it slantSuccess in Circuitlies Too brightforour infirmDelight The Truth's superbsurprise As Lightningto theChildreneased Withexplanationkind The Truthmustdazzle gradually Or everyman be blind. (Emily Dickinson, 1129,c. 1868) "Art" does afterall suggest "artifice"- even "artificial."Certainlyit standsin a pertinentrelationshipto "nature"- "natural."But the enemies of art deny this metaphysical distinction,equating what is metaphoricalwiththeirperceptionof whatis "real," as ifa photographof a landscape were the landscape, or a word the very thingor concept it indicates, with the power, too, to do harm. And the artist's power to expose hypocrisyand fraudhas always evoked fearin questionauthority, thecustodiansof the State. Yet the artistis the perpetualantagonistof what is fixed and "known"- whatis "moral,""ethical,""good." If itis suggested,however responds, obliquely,thattheartistshoulddo x, y,z, he or she instinctively like StephenDedalus of A Portraitof theArtist,"I will not serve." In its earliestenergiesin theindividual,artis likelyto be expressiveof adolescentrebellion,forthetypicalartistbeginsin adolescence, defininghim-or JOYCE CAROL OATES 78 herselfagainstfamily,authority, a worldof elders.Here is thevoice of the in David Thoreau's Waiden: youngrebel, Henry Old deeds forold people, and new deeds fornew... I have lived some thirtyyears on thisplanet,and I have yetto hear the first syllableofvaluable oreven earnestadvice frommyseniors.They have told me nothing,and probablycannottellme any thing,to thepurpose. Here is life,an experimentto a greatextentuntried by me; but it does notavail me thattheyhave triedit. Thoreau, bornDavid Henry,switchedhis given names about as a young man; themostprimaryact of self [re]creationis naming. The voice of rebellionrunsthroughour classic Americanliteradefiantvoice. It is the ture,whichis on thewhole a youthful, idiosyncratic, voice of whichMelville approvesso passionatelyin Hawthorne'sMosses froman Old Manse: "Thereis thegrandtruthaboutNathanielHawthorne. He says NO! in thunder;buttheDevil himselfcannotmake himsay yes." Unheroicin everyway except themostcrucial is Melville's Bartlebythe Scrivener,whose responsetoeveryreasonablesuggestionputtohimis the terse, "I would prefernot to"- Bartleby,formerlyof the Dead Letter Officein Washington;who eventually,like Kafka's HungerArtist,starves to deathout of sheerstubbornisolationfrommankind.Our most subversive poetic voice of the nineteenthcenturyis surelyEmily Dickinson, whose stubbornsense ofherown worthsustainedherthroughthecomposing of 1,775 remarkablepoems, mostof themunpublishedand unknown duringherlifetime.Dickinson was theonly memberof herfamilynot to declare herselfa Christian;her quick, sly observationson the subject of God suggesta skeptic's detachmentand bemusement: Drowning is not so pitiful As the attemptto rise. Three times,'tis said, a sinkingman Comes up to face the skies, And thendeclines forever To thatabhorredabode, Where hope and he partcompany- Art& Ethics 79 Forhe is graspedofGod. The Maker'scordialvisage, Howevergoodto see, we mustadmitit, Is shunned, Like an adversity. (1718,?) written thesortofgenteelladies'verse,whether Thisis hardly by femaleor male poets,likelyto have beenpublishedin generalinterest in Dickinson'stime.Nor magazineslikeAtlanticMonthly God is indeeda jealous GodHe cannotbearto see notwithHim Thatwe hadrather Butwitheachotherplay. (1719, ?) word-clusters onthepage,itsbreathless s poetry TheverylookofDickinson* ofpolishedlines,buttherapidflight thatsuggest,nottheponderousness herslantrhymes, is boldlyiconoclastic; ofthought, off-rhythms perverse virtual a cadences or broken-off , a poetry andfading metapoetry suggest with of a heightened self-consciousness, contemporary ourown starkly in themost time.This is a poeticimagination capable of expressing, "I" is narrator Dickinson's emotions. most the expansive compactspace, most a and of bothan individual singularferocity figure, representative female: thoughnotexclusively, frequently, Theyshutme up inProseAs whena littleGirl Theyputme in theClosetBecause theylikedme "still"havepeepedStill!Couldthemself AndseenmyBrain- go round Theymightas wisehavelodgeda Bird - in thePound- ... ForTreason (613, c. 1862) JOYCE CAROL OATES 80 Herethe"female"is trappedwithinthe"feminine." Thereis evidencein certainofthepoemsthat,forall herreclusiveness, EmilyDickinsonhad a senseofherowngenius;sheinhabited so intenseandall-consuming an interior worldcompete? world,howcouldan "exterior" Dare yousee a Soul at theWhiteHeatl ThencrouchwithinthedoorRed- is theFire'scommontint ButwhenthevividOre Has vanquishedRame' s conditions, It quiversfromtheForge Without a color,butthelight Blaze... Of unanointed (365, c. 1862) Thisis theinterior all thatthepoetchoosestorevealdrama;theexterior, I hidemyselfwithinmyflower, ThatfadingfromyourVase, feelformeYou, unsuspecting, Almosta loneliness. (903, c. 1864) The fadingcadences,thediminished finalline:thisis an exquisiteart,in whichsubjectandlanguageareperfectly fused.In other, rawer seemingly is thesubjectitself;themind'sterrifying the poems,turbulence autonomy, self-surrender to madness: dissolution, poet's passion, The Brain,withinitsGroove - andtrue Runsevenly Butleta Splinterswerve Twere easierforYouTo puta Current back- WhenFloodshaveslittheHillsAndscoopeda Turnpike forThemselves Andtrodden outtheMills(556, c.l 862) Art& Ethics 81 Emily Dickinson is our great American poet of inwardness; kin to, if anyone,Rainer Maria Rilke and GerardManley Hopkins. The quintessential^ visible poet of rebellionis the dandy; the androgyne; the celebrant of fin-de-siècleexcess who, in the style of Baudelaire, Huysmanns,Wilde floutsnot only authoritybut good taste, prudence,"common"sense.Who else butOscar Wilde is ourexemplar?--he who made theobservationthat,whengivinga public lecture,itis notwhat one says butwhatone wears thatmatters.(TouringtheUnited States and Canada in 1882, lecturingto promulgate"beauty,"Wilde chose his eyecatchingcostumes withcare: a greatgreencoat thatfell past his ankles, collar and cuffstrimmedwithsealskin; anothercoat lined withlavender silk; shirtswithwide Lord Byron collars; brightlycolored necktiesand handkerchiefs;black velvet suits withpuffedupper sleeves and frillsof fine lace; knee-breeches,black hose, patent leather shoes with bright buckles.) As Wilde's mentorWalterPateroffereda "vision" in Studies in theHistoryoftheRenaissance( 1873) to"regardall thingsandprinciples...as inconstantmodes or fashions"- "to burnalways withthishard,gem-like ofaestheticculture...as flame,tomaintainthisecstasy"- torealize"thetruth a new formof thecontemplativelife"- "forartcomes to you proposing franklyto give nothingbut the highestqualityto yourmomentsas they pass, and simply for those moments' sake"- so Oscar Wilde, with a self-publicist'sflairfortheprovocative,pushes aestheticismto a sortof inverted,orpervertedethics."Lying,thetellingofbeautifuluntruethings, is theproperaim of Art,"Wilde says in "The Decay of Lying"; and, more famouslyelsewhere,intheprologueto ThePictureofDorian Gray(1891), "No artisthas ethical sympathies.An ethical sympathyin an artistis an unpardonable mannerismof style... Vice and virtue are to the artist materialsforan art... Those who go beneaththesurfacedo so attheirperil... All artis quite useless." In "Modern Fiction," in The CommonReader (1919), Virginia Woolf statesboldlythat"any methodis right,everymethodis right,that expresseswhatwe wishto express,ifwe are writers."This is theverysoul of Modernism, the declaration of the artist's independence from all prescribedformsof art; the virtualeliminationof any awareness of, let alone concession to,a communityof readers,an audience whose sympathies should be courted.The artistconstituteshis own audience and, in 82 JOYCE CAROL OATES Goethe's terms,is the sole inhabitantof his universe.Voice, style,sheer language become subject:"Whatseems beautifultome, whatI shouldlike to write, is a book about nothing,a book dependent upon nothing - which would be held togetherby the strengthof its style," external, writesFlaubertin a letterof 186 1. The self-determining artistbecomes an in in of the less terms than moralterms,for obvious enemy State, political nothingso arouses the furyof thepuritantemperamentas a violationof "taboo"; throughhistory,fromthe time of Homer to the very present, depictionsof violentacts of savagerycan be accommodatedin artin a way that depictions of sexual acts of even "normal" proportionsevidently cannot.The censoriousAmericanmissionaryspiritempowereda crusader named AnthonyComstock, founderof the New York Society for the SuppressionofVice inthewaningyearsofthenineteenth century,toarrest writers, publishers,and booksellersfor"violatingcommunitystandardsof Christiandecency"; this, the virulentpuritanism,whose "democratic" power should not be underestimated,interferedwith the publicationof various editions of Whitman's Leaves of Grass, all but banned Kate Chopin' s TheAwakeningin 1899, and destroyedChopin' s career;eviscerated Theodore Dreiser's Sister Carrie, banned Joyce's Ulysses; served summonsesupon booksellersas recentlyas thelate 1950' s (in Syracuse, New York) forstockingLawrence' s Lady Chatterly's Lover,and threatens writers,publishers,and booksellersat thepresenttime.The hatredof the mostreactionarycitizensforthosecitizensperceivedas "free-thinking" as enemies- is always astonishingtotheartistictemperament, foritseems so disproportionateto our perceptionof our own power, political or otherwise.One violates "ethics"- whatever,in thecommunity,"ethics" preciselyis- at one's own risk. From otherquarters,in different epochs, have come otherdemandsupon theimaginativeartist,otherexpectationsof theuses to which individualtalentmightbe put.Fromtheideological camp of Mussolini et al. on theFascist right,fromtheideological camp ofMarx,Lenin,Trotsky et al. on theCommunist-Socialistleft,theinsistenceis thatartis a function of society;theartist'ssoul belongs to thestate.And iftheartistrebels?the statecan respondwithcensorship,imprisonment, exile, death.Plato, loverof theGood, nonethelessarguedforthebanishmentof thepoet from his idealized totalitarianRepublic; by his own cruel logic, how could he Art& Ethics 83 have disapprovedof theexecutionof Socrates? Always therehave been artistswho are themselvesideologues,and some oftheseare majortalents; George Orwell, for instance, who declared thathis work was written andfor democraticSocialism." In thiscontext,it "against totalitarianism is not surprisingthatotherartistsreactedwitharistocraticdisdain. In his essay "Artas Establisherof Value," Wallace Stevens boldly remarks,"I mightbe expectedtospeak ofthesocial, thatis thesociological orpolitical, obligationof thepoet. He has none." VladimirNabokov snubbed"ideas" entirely:"Mediocritythriveson 'ideas."' His loathingof ideamongers,as he called them,like Dostoyevsky, Gorki, Mann, Orwell, Freud ("Dr. Froid," "thatViennese quack") and his reactionagainstdidactic,"realistic" arthave theirbasis in personal,ifunarticulated, politicsof an extreme conservativenature.(Nabokov detestedand seems to have fearedhomosexuals, for instance; thus "homosexuals," as he imagines them, are portrayedwithcontemptin his workas signs or symbolsof disease.) For Nabokov, a work of fictionis only justifiedif it supplies "what I shall bluntlycall aesthetic bliss" (Afterword,Lolita). Echoing one of his masters,Walter Pater,Nabokov remarksin his memoirSpeak, Memory that pleasure in such moments arises fromthe conscious savoring of details,ofcolors,textures,patterns,designs: when"mortalityhas a chance to peer beyond its own limits."Words are worlds; the worldcan only be apprehendedthroughtheWord. Ordinaryreality"begins to rotand stink unless it is transformed by art." Nabokov's influence was most prevalent in the Sixties and Seventies,inspiringanynumberofbright,inventive,iconoclasticyounger writers,most of themmale. The flatteningof fiction'slandscape to two dimensions,as in a Magrittepainting,and the insistenceupon fiction's totallack of relationshipto "reality"had its most eloquent polemicistin William Gass, who argues in The World Withinthe Wordthatpoetryis "cathartic"only forthe unserious;therapythroughartis a "delusion"; a characterin a novel is "any linguisticlocation in a book towardwhich a great part of the text stands as modifier."The ideal book, therefore, followingFlaubert,would have onlyone character:language itself.Witty and provocative as this aesthetic stance is, its limitationsare obvious. - the "Literatureof - metafiction PostModernism-self-reflexivefiction Exhaustion"- "fabulism": confrontedwith so many voices trumpeting 84 JOYCE CAROL OATES the Wildean premisethatall artis quite useless, thereaderis temptedto turnaside fromexperimentalfictionaltogether.Younger writers,particularly those whose experience of America differssignificantlyfromthe largelyunexaminedexperienceof thedominantmajority,of whitemale heterosexualsof themiddle,educated class, have returnedto otherforms of fiction,poetry,and drama.Race, gender,class emergeas perspectives of vision as well as subjectsand "issues"; theworkof our giftedcontemporaries,too rich,too diverse,too manyto even beginto name,frequently combines experimentalmethod with storytellingof a traditionalsort, "poetic" and "realistic"simultaneously. If we persist,we come full circle. The shiftsand currentsof prevailingaestheticsare a greatMobius stripforeverturningupon itself; stimulatedby,and reactingagainst,and again stimulatedby thepoliticsof thetime.If we are toldthatartis onlyfortheState,we rebel; ifwe are told thatartis useless, futile,we rebel; we are creaturesof self-determination, yetcreaturesofourtime,deeplyconnectedwithone another,nourishedby one another,definedby one another,in ways impossible to enumerate. Consider, forinstance,the Belgian SurrealistRené Magritte,creatorof "antiart"images inthe1920' s and 30' s; thededicatedexperimentalist who claimed that,forhim,artwas a "lamentableexpedient"by whichthought might be produced. Magritte's most characteristic canvases are thought-parables, paradoxes unrelatedto thevisual worldand explicable in terms of ideas (in one famouspainting,forexample, a canvas solely a depicting landscape is set beforea windowopeningout upon the"real" landscape; in anotherfamouspainting,"The TreacheryofImages," a pipe is displayed above the caption,This is not a pipe). Magritterejected as worthlessthekindof artdesignedto evoke emotionin theviewer,as well as artdisplayingpainterlyeffects.DuringtheNazi occupationofBelgium, mode. however,the artistfoundhimselfsuddenlypaintingin a different Where his art had always been flat,his images generic,monotonie as wallpaper,in thisphase of his career,whichlastedfromthespringof 1943 to 1946, Magritte's canvases eruptedin color; the tone of his paintings became brightand joyful, his brushworktook on an Impressionistic quality. In this "Renoir period," Magritte obsessively painted warm, sensuous figures,images clearlyintendedto evoke emotion,even eroticism. Magritte,themostcerebralof artists,believed thatthisworkwas in Art& Ethics 85 reaction to the Nazi tyrannyand the horrorof war: "My work is a counter-offensive." The artist as perpetual antagonist; the artist as supremely the artistas deeply bonded to his or her world,and in a self-determined; meaningfulrelationshipwitha community-thisis theartist'sethics,and the artist'saesthetics.