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A review by mashedpotatoandsaladcream
The Critic as Artist by Oscar Wilde
informative
reflective
slow-paced
3.5
“if one loves art at all, one must love it beyond all other things in the world, and against such love, the reason, if one listened to it, would cry out. there is nothing sane about the worship of beauty. it is too splendid to be sane.”
if i were to take one thing away from reading this work is that oscar wilde loves what he does. i wanted to like this more but it turns out that my mind really just doesn’t tune in with his dialogue, honestly? i felt pretty stupid reading some parts because i just couldn’t get what he meant but i know if it DID understand then i would love it a lot more. i’m not an artist. i’m not a critic. but i do get some of the points he’s getting at.
the work itself follows a script dialogue between two men to present his essay on a critic beinf an artist : one who sees critic as harmful against art and meaningless, whilst the other more dominant voice shows how critic itself is an art form. that art is meaningless until someone looks and places their own meaning and experience within it. art in isolation is nothing and to truly enjoy and appreciate it you learn all about it -the experiences of the creator, the past, the present. all of it.
“‘all art is immoral.’ ‘all art?’ ‘yes. for emotion for the sake of emotion is the aim of art, and emotion for the sake of action is the aim of life… society often forgives the criminal; it never forgives the dreamer”
“it is a strange thing, this transference of emotion. we sicken with the same maladies as the poets, and the singer lends us his pain. dead lips have their message for us, and hearts that have fallen to dust can communicate their joy. we run to kiss the bleeding mouth of fantine, and we follow manon lescaut over the whole world… there is no passion that we cannot feel, no pleasure that we may not gratify, and we choose the time of our initiation and the time of our freedom also!”
but as i read it and my mind kind of blanked over certain passages, what i really enjoyed was how he seemed to encapsulate what people like about art. it doesn’t need a function, it acts as mirrors, it provides ways for us to experience all these emotions and events we never would have experienced otherwise. art is vital for a society and wildes passions shows through in the way he wrote this essay - i won’t lie and say it was easy to get through but it was fulfilling. the way he talks of all these renowned artists? it makes one WANT to be among them - if oscar wilde is anything, it is a phenomenal writer.
“but perhaps you think that in beholding for the mere joy of beholding, and contemplating for the sake of contemplation, there is something that is egotistic. if you think so, do not say so. it takes a thoroughly selfish age, like our own, to deify self sacrifice”
if i were to take one thing away from reading this work is that oscar wilde loves what he does. i wanted to like this more but it turns out that my mind really just doesn’t tune in with his dialogue, honestly? i felt pretty stupid reading some parts because i just couldn’t get what he meant but i know if it DID understand then i would love it a lot more. i’m not an artist. i’m not a critic. but i do get some of the points he’s getting at.
the work itself follows a script dialogue between two men to present his essay on a critic beinf an artist : one who sees critic as harmful against art and meaningless, whilst the other more dominant voice shows how critic itself is an art form. that art is meaningless until someone looks and places their own meaning and experience within it. art in isolation is nothing and to truly enjoy and appreciate it you learn all about it -the experiences of the creator, the past, the present. all of it.
“‘all art is immoral.’ ‘all art?’ ‘yes. for emotion for the sake of emotion is the aim of art, and emotion for the sake of action is the aim of life… society often forgives the criminal; it never forgives the dreamer”
“it is a strange thing, this transference of emotion. we sicken with the same maladies as the poets, and the singer lends us his pain. dead lips have their message for us, and hearts that have fallen to dust can communicate their joy. we run to kiss the bleeding mouth of fantine, and we follow manon lescaut over the whole world… there is no passion that we cannot feel, no pleasure that we may not gratify, and we choose the time of our initiation and the time of our freedom also!”
but as i read it and my mind kind of blanked over certain passages, what i really enjoyed was how he seemed to encapsulate what people like about art. it doesn’t need a function, it acts as mirrors, it provides ways for us to experience all these emotions and events we never would have experienced otherwise. art is vital for a society and wildes passions shows through in the way he wrote this essay - i won’t lie and say it was easy to get through but it was fulfilling. the way he talks of all these renowned artists? it makes one WANT to be among them - if oscar wilde is anything, it is a phenomenal writer.
“but perhaps you think that in beholding for the mere joy of beholding, and contemplating for the sake of contemplation, there is something that is egotistic. if you think so, do not say so. it takes a thoroughly selfish age, like our own, to deify self sacrifice”