Interesting to read this post at the same time I'm re-reading the part in Blood Meridian where the judge is talking about books and sketches and being in them...
I guess unrealistic art should be hypothetically possible. That is, something that means something that cannot be recognized and reported, just felt. The same reaching around in the wake that lets a novelist manipulate time effects convincingly or a visionary concoct a landscape that's also a map of something internal could theoretically come upon things that just hit us, all-new, all-different objects of uncanny effect. But I think the thought that this might be possible has flooded the world with fake unrealities, as it were.
When I was in HS I created an artificial language with a similar thought in mind -- that it was possible to conjure the quasi-felt by creating semantic spaces for (and writing-out) what was almost-there as a kind unarticulated affective gesture. What it actually created was just a means of solidifying (in a brute and highly inefficient way) a perspective which could have been described just as aptly in English, had the symbolic resignation of doing so not been so offensive at the time. When I occasionally write in the language today I do not feel something different, only what it felt like to be 17.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-09-17 02:29 am (UTC)I guess unrealistic art should be hypothetically possible. That is, something that means something that cannot be recognized and reported, just felt. The same reaching around in the wake that lets a novelist manipulate time effects convincingly or a visionary concoct a landscape that's also a map of something internal could theoretically come upon things that just hit us, all-new, all-different objects of uncanny effect. But I think the thought that this might be possible has flooded the world with fake unrealities, as it were.
When I was in HS I created an artificial language with a similar thought in mind -- that it was possible to conjure the quasi-felt by creating semantic spaces for (and writing-out) what was almost-there as a kind unarticulated affective gesture. What it actually created was just a means of solidifying (in a brute and highly inefficient way) a perspective which could have been described just as aptly in English, had the symbolic resignation of doing so not been so offensive at the time. When I occasionally write in the language today I do not feel something different, only what it felt like to be 17.