What Is Art? Leo Tolstoy (good books to read for 12 year olds TXT) đ
- Author: Leo Tolstoy
Book online «What Is Art? Leo Tolstoy (good books to read for 12 year olds TXT) đ». Author Leo Tolstoy
And only then will art, which is always dependent on science, be what it might and should be, an organ coequally important with science for the life and progress of mankind.
Art is not a pleasure, a solace, or an amusement; art is a great matter. Art is an organ of human life, transmitting manâs reasonable perception into feeling. In our age the common religious perception of men is the consciousness of the brotherhood of manâ âwe know that the well-being of man lies in union with his fellow-men. True science should indicate the various methods of applying this consciousness to life. Art should transform this perception into feeling.
The task of art is enormous. Through the influence of real art, aided by science guided by religion, that peaceful cooperation of man which is now obtained by external meansâ âby our law-courts, police, charitable institutions, factory inspection, etc.â âshould be obtained by manâs free and joyous activity. Art should cause violence to be set aside.
And it is only art that can accomplish this.
All that now, independently of the fear of violence and punishment, makes the social life of man possible (and already now this is an enormous part of the order of our lives)â âall this has been brought about by art. If by art it has been inculcated how people should treat religious objects, their parents, their children, their wives, their relations, strangers, foreigners; how to conduct themselves to their elders, their superiors, to those who suffer, to their enemies, and to animals; and if this has been obeyed through generations by millions of people, not only unenforced by any violence, but so that the force of such customs can be shaken in no way but by means of art: then, by the same art, other customs, more in accord with the religious perception of our time, may be evoked. If art has been able to convey the sentiment of reverence for images, for the eucharist, and for the kingâs person; of shame at betraying a comrade, devotion to a flag, the necessity of revenge for an insult, the need to sacrifice oneâs labour for the erection and adornment of churches, the duty of defending oneâs honour or the glory of oneâs native landâ âthen that same art can also evoke reverence for the dignity of every man and for the life of every animal; can make men ashamed of luxury, of violence, of revenge, or of using for their pleasure that of which others are in need; can compel people freely, gladly, and without noticing it, to sacrifice themselves in the service of man.
The task for art to accomplish is to make that feeling of brotherhood and love of oneâs neighbour, now attained only by the best members of the society, the customary feeling and the instinct of all men. By evoking, under imaginary conditions, the feeling of brotherhood and love, religious art will train men to experience those same feelings under similar circumstances in actual life; it will lay in the souls of men the rails along which the actions of those whom art thus educates will naturally pass. And universal art, by uniting the most different people in one common feeling, by destroying separation, will educate people to union, will show them, not by reason but by life itself, the joy of universal union reaching beyond the bounds set by life.
The destiny of art in our time is to transmit from the realm of reason to the realm of feeling the truth that well-being for men consists in being united together, and to set up, in place of the existing reign of force, that kingdom of God, i.e. of love, which we all recognise to be the highest aim of human life.
Possibly, in the future, science may reveal to art yet newer and higher ideals, which art may realise; but, in our time, the destiny of art is clear and definite. The task for Christian art is to establish brotherly union among men.
Appendices IThis is the first page of MallarmĂ©âs book Divagations:â â
Le phénomÚne futur
Un ciel pĂąle, sur le monde qui finit de dĂ©crĂ©pitude, va peut-ĂȘtre partir avec les nuages: les lambeaux de la pourpre usĂ©e des couchants dĂ©teignent dans une riviĂšre dormant Ă lâhorizon submergĂ© de rayons et dâeau. Les arbres sâennuient, et, sous leur feuillage blanchi (de la poussiĂšre du temps plutĂŽt que celle des chemins) monte la maison en toile de Montreur de choses PassĂ©es: maint rĂ©verbĂšre attend le crĂ©puscule et ravive les visages dâune malheureuse foule, vaincue par la maladie immortelle et le pĂ©chĂ© des siĂšcles, dâhommes prĂšs de leurs chĂ©tives complices enceintes des fruits misĂ©rables avec lesquels pĂ©rira la terre. Dans le silence inquiet de tous les yeux suppliant lĂ -bas le soleil qui, sous lâeau, sâenfonce avec le dĂ©sespoir dâun cri, voici le simple boniment: âNulle enseigne ne vous rĂ©gale du spectacle intĂ©rieur, car il nâest pas maintenant un peintre capable dâen donner une ombre triste. Jâapporte, vivante (et prĂ©servĂ©e Ă travers les ans par la science souveraine) une Femme dâautrefois. Quelque folie, originelle et naĂŻve, une extase dâor, je ne sais quoi! par elle nommĂ© sa chevelure, se ploie avec la grĂące des Ă©toffes autour dâun visage quâ Ă©claire la nuditĂ© sanglante de ses lĂšvres. A la place du vĂȘtement vain, elle a un corps; et les yeux, semblables aux pierres rares! ne valent pas ce regard qui sort de sa chair heureuse: des seins levĂ©s comme sâils Ă©taient pleins dâun lait Ă©ternel, la pointe vers le
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