–The beast most innocent
That is so fabulous it never sleeps;
If I can keep against all argument
Such image of a snow white unicorn,
Then as I pray it may for sanctuary
Descend at last to me,
And put into my hand its golden horn.
From “I see a girl dragged by the wrists” by Philip Larkin
“Against all argument,” there’s the rub: to make sense of life must reason give way and allow a unicorn to pass? Am I really just a romantic or is this truly the nature of things? After all, it was Milton’s Satan that was the very picture of reason; one is even compelled to admit that he is far more attractive than God in the poem. Reason makes its siren demand for our attention, but must we make it the mere stable boy of our unicorn?
The real question I suppose is whether we can trust our humanity. Is our longing to touch a unicorn something to be relied upon or is it a childish dream for something beyond the quotidian? In Philip Larkin’s poem quoted above the poet also ponders how everything can be remade “with shovel and spade” and yet each “dull day and each despairing act builds up the crags from which the spirit leaps.” Does our inner self hear a call or do we need to hear the call to bear the weight of material reality?
Art’s concern with beauty is motivated by a desire to share our experience of beauty in all its complexity with others. But, can this experience of beauty be trusted? Can any experience be trusted? Assume that there is more than our subjective reality, an objective reality; God’s reality as it were. How exactly could we know it? How would any physical being know it except through the subjective experiencing of it? In the end doesn’t this mean that we must trust to our humanity because we have no other choice?
Blog No. 57, The beast most innocent
–The beast most innocent
That is so fabulous it never sleeps;
If I can keep against all argument
Such image of a snow white unicorn,
Then as I pray it may for sanctuary
Descend at last to me,
And put into my hand its golden horn.
From “I see a girl dragged by the wrists” by Philip Larkin
“Against all argument,” there’s the rub: to make sense of life must reason give way and allow a unicorn to pass? Am I really just a romantic or is this truly the nature of things? After all, it was Milton’s Satan that was the very picture of reason; one is even compelled to admit that he is far more attractive than God in the poem. Reason makes its siren demand for our attention, but must we make it the mere stable boy of our unicorn?
The real question I suppose is whether we can trust our humanity. Is our longing to touch a unicorn something to be relied upon or is it a childish dream for something beyond the quotidian? In Philip Larkin’s poem quoted above the poet also ponders how everything can be remade “with shovel and spade” and yet each “dull day and each despairing act builds up the crags from which the spirit leaps.” Does our inner self hear a call or do we need to hear the call to bear the weight of material reality?
Art’s concern with beauty is motivated by a desire to share our experience of beauty in all its complexity with others. But, can this experience of beauty be trusted? Can any experience be trusted? Assume that there is more than our subjective reality, an objective reality; God’s reality as it were. How exactly could we know it? How would any physical being know it except through the subjective experiencing of it? In the end doesn’t this mean that we must trust to our humanity because we have no other choice?