Thursday, May 05, 2011

Rand and Aesthetics 8

Volition, consciousness, and existence. Rand's contention that Romanticism is a "volition-orientated" school of art offers a curious distinction which, if applied consistently, demonstrates the bankruptcy of Rand's aesthetic categories. Those who assumed that volition applies to will or decisions are in for a bit of shock. According to Rand, volition applies, rather, to consciousness and existence:



The faculty of volition operates in regard to the two fundamental aspects of man’s life: consciousness and existence, i.e., his psychological action and his existential action, i.e., the formation of his own character and the course of action he pursues in the physical world. Therefore, in a literary work, both the characterizations and the events are to be created by the author, according to his view of the role of values in human psychology and existence (and according to the code of values he holds to be right). His characters are abstract projections, not reproductions of concretes; they are invented conceptually, not copied reportorially from the particular individuals he might have observed. The specific characters of particular individuals are merely the evidence of their particular value-choices and have no wider metaphysical significance (except as material for the study of the general principles of human psychology); they do not exhaust man’s characterological potential.

Note how Rand here connects Romanticism with her theory of human nature. For Rand, volition as applied to consciousness means (among other things) "the formation of his [a man's] own character." Man, Rand contended, is a being of "self-made soul"; it is the volitional nature of consciousness that makes him so. Romanticism, therefore, being a volition-orientated school of art, must (by implication at least) portray men as having self-made souls.

Rand's notion of volition as applicable to existence is more in line with her view of the "efficacy of reason" and her benevolent universe premise. All these conceptions are deeply problematic and, at best, only half-truths.

Rand's conviction that individuals form their own character is empirically false. Rand presents no compelling evidence in its favor; and there exists plenty of scientific evidence against it. Hence Randian Romanticism is contary to the facts of reality. Curiously enough, Rand herself nearly acknowledges as much when she criticizes "Naturalist" authors for merely providing "journalistic" characters based on the observation of "particular individuals" (i.e., real people). She even goes so far as to admit that the Naturalist authors may present insights concerning human psychology. This seems almost like an unwitting acknowledgement that, on the issue of human nature, so-called "Naturalist" authors like Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Balzac, etc. were factually correct, despite their clear rejection of Rand's own peculiar view that "man is a being of self-made soul."

Now if we are to rely upon science and experience to guide us in these matters, it must be admitted that "free will," to the extent that exists at all, is hemmed in all sides by the biological limitations of the human brain. Neuroscientists have discovered that the brain is made up of competing systems. Unity is achieved (if at all), presumably, by some kind of vague and amorphous controlling agent, which we identify with ourselves; but it is not clear that this "agent," whatever it may be, enjoys complete control or even has a will of its own. In any case, the old dichtomy of free will versus determinism may have outlived its usefulness. As Nietszche suggested over a hundred years ago, the question is not so much between free will and unfree will, as between strong wills and weak wills.

Once the evidence of science is weighed in the balance, it would seem that free will, at best, applies only to decisions based on reflection. Even here, the conception is problematic. But applying it further is not justified on empirical grounds. For this reason, Rand's assumption that volition is applicable to "consciousness and existence" is, at best, misleading, and at worse, palpably absurd. How can a volition which struggles to control its own impulses be applicable to both consciousness and existence? The most the individual can hope to control is his own decisions (and even that hope may prove illusory). Much that is applicable to both consciousness and existence is well beyond any sort of volitional choice. We don't choose our characters or the emotions and impulses that afflict us on all sides; and our choices, in terms of "existence," are very limited, hemmed in on the one side by physical necessity and on the other by the choices and actions of other individuals.

Ultimately, Rand's claim that volition is applicable to both consciousness and existence is merely an eccentric way of formulating her theory of human nature and the benevolent universe premise. However, it is deeply questionable whether the first of these assumptions is applicable to literature, and the second of any great importance. Is there any literature that portrays human beings as men of self-made souls? Does even Rand's own novels portray them as such? Curiously, Rand does not profer us a glimpse into the formative stages of Roark or Galt, where we can see them quite literally forming their own souls! Yet, if the deeper implications of Rand's own aesthetic theories are to be credited, the only difference between John Galt and James Taggart are a handful of fundamental choices. Galt could easily, had he volitionally chosen different values, become James Taggart, while Taggart could easily have become John Galt. (One wonders, if their choices had been different, would their physical attributes also change?). Nor is it clear how the category of volition as applied to existence is supposed to reveal anything insightful or even true about fundamental views of a novel's author. Doesn't Kira's death, at the end of We the Living, imply that Rand's protagonist exercises no volition over her existence and that therefore Rand is a determinist (at least in regards to volition being applicable to existence)? Meanwhile, in Jane Austen's novels, the protagonists never fail to achieve their ambition of ensnaring the victim of their romantic fancies. Does this mean that Jane Austen believed in the applicability of volition to existence? Or did she merely wish to write novels with a happy ending (happy, that is, from the feminine point of view)?

25 comments:

Ken said...

I find the Rand quote somewhat helpful to my earlier questions about the authorial process. It seems (at least from this snippet) that Rand conceived the author as exercising complete control over the characters and events; and that the story is thus completely reflective of the author's intent and philosophy. I do still wonder what she would have said about those authors who describe their creative processes differently.

I also found the first sentence of the quote interesting. It made me realize that, while one "i.e." is "I just thought of a better way to say this," two or more turn into "I'm really not sure what I'm talking about" - at least, to my reading.

Rey said...

I still don't quite understand what she means by Romanticism. She seems, once again, to have her own specialized definition contrary to what was already established and accepted (for example, Romantic-era writer Charles Baudelaire wrote, "Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject nor exact truth, but in the way of feeling").

Rand's peculiar, volitional values-focused definition excludes a number of Romantic authors, particularly poets like Shelley, Wordsworth, or Blake who valued passion, impulse, and creative vision over the Enlightenment-era values of reason and progress. Among the early Romantic novelists you have Sir Walter Scott and James Fenimore Cooper -- both of whom idealized the past and in Cooper's case, the outright primitive -- as well as Mary Shelley whose most famous novel comes down firmly in Camp Nurture in the Nature-Nurture debate, yet could hardly be called "Naturalism," what with the mad science and reanimated corpses and whatnot.

Finally, as with the Malevolent-Benevolent Senses of Life dichotomy, I'm left wondering what the point of her Naturalism-Romanticism split even is. Of what use or value are these lables that will never quite fit any complex work?

Her words are full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing.

Anonymous said...

I first read Rand, when I was 19--THE ROMANTIC MANIFESTO. I was a second-year English major, and as Rey points out Rand's definition of "Romanticism" doesn't take into account fundamental aspects of English (or American) Romanticism. The book was very empowering in developing my self-confidence, in that I realized I knew more about some aspects of her topic than the author of this book published by a reputable publisher knew.
So Ayn Rand helped me develop my confidence in my own mind, though perhaps not by a method that she would have appreciated. Rand is romantic only 1. in her creation of idealized characters--though this is also a characteristic of neo-classical literature; 2. her emphasis on will and volition, despite the lip service given to the primacy of reason (valuing "reason" and Aristotle are more neo-classical characteristics); and 3. in her scenes where the protagonists have wild outbursts of passionate emotion, which she very unconvincingly and at length attempts to clothe in the figleaf of "reason".

Anonymous said...

Does anyone know why Rand clung so tenaciously to the notion that she was a Romantic? Why not a classicist?

It would make so much more sense, with the emphasis on Enlightenment, reason, capitalism, individual rights, etc. And, for that matter, her sense of inheritance from Aristotle fits with classicism.

As pointed out by Rey, her claim on Romanticism was very tenuous and limited. Indeed, there is more about actual 19th century Romanticism that lead to her disapproval than approval, IMHO.

Why not align with classicism, then?

- Chris

gregnyquist said...

Does anyone know why Rand clung so tenaciously to the notion that she was a Romantic? Why not a classicist?

It has to be recalled that the Aristolean, pro-capitalist aspect of her philosophy is a later development that preceded her passion for her "ideal" man and the Romanticist literature of Hugo, Schiller, Rostand, and Dostoevsky. Her passion for capitalism arose as a consequence of her involvement in Wilkie's 1940 Presidential campaign, which motivated her to take a much greater interest in American politics, whereas she seems to have picked up her interest in Aristotle from Paterson in the early 40s. By this time her views on literature were pretty set and didn't change.

Rey said...

Does anyone know why Rand clung so tenaciously to the notion that she was a Romantic?

"Her passion for capitalism arose as a consequence of her involvement in Wilkie's 1940 Presidential campaign, which motivated her to take a much greater interest in American politics, whereas she seems to have picked up her interest in Aristotle from Paterson in the early 40s. By this time her views on literature were pretty set and didn't change."

What's especially perplexing is that her Romantic Manfiesto wasn't published till 1975, so she had three decades to think, rethink, and revise her aesthetics to account for new information and ideas. Instead it would seem she doggedly (dogmatically?) stuck to her arbitrary and inadequate Naturalism-Romanticism dichotomy. Instead of abandoning terms that had lost their explanatory power and using ones that were more accurate/reflective of her outlook, she chose to change the established meanings to fit...and here's where my mind begins to boggle...because should couldn't admit she had grown/changed/evolved...because she really liked those terms...because that particular dichotomy created a sense of clarity...? Why? Why? Why?

Where are you, TUP? Enlighten us!

Rey said...

And why is Modernism is architecture good, but in literature, the graphic and plastic arts, and music it's double-plus-ungood?

Per Rand, what is Modernism? I assume she has her own special definition like she does for Romanticism and Naturalism?

Jonathan said...

@Rey:
"And why is Modernism is architecture good, but in literature, the graphic and plastic arts, and music it's double-plus-ungood?"

Yeah, it seems that Rand appreciated the rebellious individualism and originality of Modernist architecture, but somehow was incapable of recognizing it in the other arts. Perhaps if there had been a dapper, aristocratic, arrogant rock-and-roller, instead of the bearded "feeelthy heeepies" that dominated the music scene, she might have identified with the "sense of life" of some rock music? Perhaps if Andy Warhol had had handsome, angular features and a sunnier brand of self-importance, Rand might have adore his work?

J

Jonathan said...

@Rey:
"Per Rand, what is Modernism? I assume she has her own special definition like she does for Romanticism and Naturalism?"

Rand at her most emotional and irrational:
http://aynrandlexicon.com/lexicon/modern_art.html

Rey said...

Oh, bother! My comment was bloggered.

Thanks for the link, Jonathan. Lots of good, weird stuff in there. That she looks a "smear" and thinks of decay, decomposition, and disintegration while someone else looks at the same smear and thinks joy, vitality, and spontenaity says more about her sense of life than the artists.

Perhaps her problem with nonrepresentational art was that the viewer has own his/her feelings. It's easy to look at Botticelli's "Salome..." and think "Severed heads are gross! Salome is evil!" than it is to look at a Pollock and explain your reaction.

"The genus of art works is: man-made objects which present a selective recreation of reality according to the artist’s metaphysical value-judgments, by means of a specific material medium."

Music is not an object and does not recreate reality; therefore, music is not art. QED.

There's lots more stuff in Jonathan's link worth readings, and maybe Greg will address some of her other "arguments" laters, but I'll leave it with this quote.

"There is no place for whim in any human activity—if it is to be regarded as human."

Discuss.

gregnyquist said...

Yeah, it seems that Rand appreciated the rebellious individualism and originality of Modernist architecture, but somehow was incapable of recognizing it in the other arts.

Well, I'm not sure the modernisms of disparate art forms are all that commensurate. What, after all, would be the correlate of Finnegan's Wake or Le marteau sans maƮtre in architecture? Whatever it is, it certainly is not Frank Lloyd Wright or Howard Roark. The immense costs of architecture serve as a check against the kind of excesses less expensive arts have been prone to under the sway of modernism. It was precisely these excesses that inspired Rand's ire. While her fulminations against modernism may not be particularly insightful, I don't see them contradicting her admiration for unadorned skyscrapers.

I would also note that modernism's mania for originality is something it inherited from Romanticism. In some senses, modernism is merely a reductio ad absurdum of some of the worst traits of Romanticism.

Rey said...

Well, one man's excesses are another man's delights.

(I've not read Finnegan's Wake but Ulysses, for me, is a multilayered verbal collage that brings me immense pleasure to read. I'd also compare it to a parade where you can hear multiple melodies as one band moves away and another approaches, sometimes creating dissonance, other times consonance, sometimes bewildering, other times insightful, but always delightful.)

Anyway, my two main points are:

Rand doesn't have a clear, stable definition of "modern" or "modernism" unless it's "what's happening now."

Rand's dismissal of non-architectural modern art is uninformed, incurious, and reactionary.

Daniel Barnes said...

Isn't Romantic Realism a bit like um, contextual certainty?

Daniel Barnes said...

ie: something's got to give?

Rey said...

OT@Daniel: Stay tuned for my own aesthetic manifesto outlining the tenets of Absurdist Naturalism. Or Postcolonial Classicism. Or maybe Lovecraftian Sentimentalism*.

I haven't decided which incongruent concepts to jam together yet, but rest assured, it will usher in a golden age of art, which will rival the one ushered in by Rand.

*Oh dearest shuggoth,
Thou lookest like a moth,
A grizzly bear, and squid,
Got together and had a kid...

gregnyquist said...

I've not read Finnegan's Wake but Ulysses, for me, is a multilayered verbal collage that brings me immense pleasure to read.

Finnegan's Wake, while it goes beyond even Ulysses in its sheer virtuosity, is a very difficult, obscure work enjoyed by a handful of literary connoisseurs. As a model to be imitated, it represents a complete dead end. Like much extreme modernist art, it is respected far more than it is enjoyed.

Incidentally, part of the appeal of Rand's aesthetics (and what leads intelligent people to champion it) is precisely it's staunch anti-modernism. Despite all the controversy over modernism, there exists very little in the way of intelligent criticism of modernism, and so there exists a great vacuum which Rand's aesthetics is drawn upon to fill. In the absence of anything better, Rand's aesthetics, for some, becomes the default anti-modernist position. (I'll have more to say about this later on.)

Daniel Barnes said...

@Rey,
Looking forward to your forthcoming Golden Age after the Randian one arrives.
No doubt you are already familiar with the incomparable Sylvia Bokor.

Rey said...

@Daniel: Alas, that site is blocked by my company's filter.

gregnyquist said...

Isn't Romantic Realism a bit like um, contextual certainty?

If applied to Rand, it is most definitely a contradictio in adjecto. However, it can be applied in ways that aren't self-contradictory. Romanticism, like modernism, is hardly a clean, simple, homogenuous category. There exist unrealistic and realistic forms of Romanticism. Conrad, for example, thought of himself as a Romantic Realist (and, though Ayn Rand didn't like his work, she agreed with that assessment). Dostoevsky and Stendhal have also been described as Romantic Realists.

Rey said...

"Romanticism, like modernism, is hardly a clean, simple, homogenuous category."

And I think that's the key takeaway we ought to, uh, take away from this. Literature, like life, is messy and complicated and doesn't fit neatly into our verbal boxes.

What you say about Conrad is interesting, because I certainly can see the Romantic and Realist elements in his fiction, but I also see some intimations of Modernism in the way his idealized characters in his books don't live up to the ideals they embody and are aware of that fact...Lord Jim and Nostromo come first to mind.

Dragonfly said...

I think Romantic Realism in itself may be a useful term, as long as you don't equate realism with naturalism. If I think in terms of paintings, then realism means that the subject of the painting is very recognizable, it makes a realistic impression on the naive onlooker. The romantic part would imply that the artist is fooling us in a sense: the work is not like a random snapshot of reality, but a highly constructed and selective "reality", where composition, colors, shading etc. may be made in an in fact unreal way so that it looks the more real to us, as long as we're not aware of (or choose to ignore) the tricks of the trade.

I think this can also be translated, mutatis mutandis, to literature. "Romantic" is then here a more generic term than that is commonly used for the Romantic era in art, and "realism" may imply different gradations of recognizability (where you draw the line is of course somewhat arbitrary).

Ken said...

Rey: I assume you are familiar with Lovecraft's own efforts, e.g. http://hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/poetry/p289.asp?

Xtra Laj said...

Is Blogger finally back up? Recent postings have been deleted so Greg may have to repost his most recent effort.

Lloyd Flack said...

Was Rand trying to get by hero worship of her ideal man some of what other people might try to get from religion? I'm thinking of things such as exaltation and reverence.

Rand valued human accomplishment but did not put the same sort of value on human relationships or the natural world. Most people put far higher values on these than Rand did. To further restrict what she could revere, she placed little value on acts of generosity or kindness. She could not understand someone who felt linked to others.

Thus she focused on virtues such as productivity and integrity. And these are things that should be admired. But she seemed to be looking for people who lived up to impossibly high standards to act as her idols. People that she could not find in real life.

gregnyquist said...

Was Rand trying to get by hero worship of her ideal man some of what other people might try to get from religion?

Yes. She sought to redirect religious feeling toward her ideal man.

But she seemed to be looking for people who lived up to impossibly high standards to act as her idols.

It's not just impossibly high standards, but eccentric standards. She wanted heroes who were perfect, flawless, certain, of one mind and without inner conflicts. For reasons not easily plumbed, Rand was obsessed by the man who "has no inner conflicts, his mind and his emotions are integrated, his consciousness is in perfect harmony." That's not only a high standard, it's an impossible standard, as the latest neuroscience demonstrates in spades.